


watchin' x-files with no lights on

by kasuutan



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Begging, Blowjobs, College AU, Dirty Talk, I AM A HUGE FUCKING MESS, M/M, Nipple Play, Nudes, Office AU, Office Sex, Praise Kink, Sexting, Snapchat Sex, Threesomes, disclaimer theyre like between the ages of 17-college age in all of these, how i handle business is dead, i am not that big of a fucking mess, selfcest, shout outs to danch for accompanying me on this trip to hell and back, weed reference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3920881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasuutan/pseuds/kasuutan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-one week, barenaked ladies</p>
<p>a compilation of sicc taishiro lewds that are a result of a friendship based entirely around putting koushiro in compromising situations and positions<br/>-disclaimer they're at least 17-college age in all of these don't even start with me-<br/>yes i need god</p>
<p>update; feat. snapchat au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. with all due respect taichi-san but go fuck yourself

**Author's Note:**

> this is easily the stUPIDEST thing I HAVE EVER WRITTEN this is like the plot of a bad doujin but worse because there’s no art with ridiculous amounts of messy SFX to make up for the lack of plot and shit writing this is just lack of plot and shit writing why are you EVEN HERE. 
> 
> god help me god help us i am sorry to anyone who opens this and has to close it because i go too hard 
> 
> warnings; selfcest, painfully out of character, plotless, and disgusting  
> they are adults in this (probably around 20) though i am not that fucked and disgusting
> 
> shout outs to danch aka @dunatdan on tumblr for supporting this destruction of purity and all that is good in this world im dragging you to hell with me pal

Taichi hates being woken up. He knows it’s Saturday, and he can’t hear kids playing outside yet, which means it can’t be any later than ten in the morning, which is way too early for a Saturday. So he’s wondering who rudely decided it was a great idea to have an in-depth conversation right next to his bed on a Saturday morning before ten. 

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? Clearly, _I_ should go first, seeing as I’m more assertive than you.” 

“But…we’re both the same, aren’t we?” 

“Well, technically speaking, yes, but also no. We’re two separate beings with two clearly different personalities, but you and I are one of the same.” 

Taichi has no idea why the fuck Koushiro is talking to himself, especially at ten in the morning so _loudly._ He groans, pulls the extra pillow over his head and mumbles “Shut up, Koushiro.” into the fabric. 

“Ah, Taichi-san, I’m sorry for waking you. Or-er. We’re sorry for waking you?”

“Tai, you need to get up. Sleeping in late like this causes the body to grow used to oversleeping, which causes grogginess, so for your benefit, I’d consider waking up now.” 

Taichi knows Koushiro is weird. Like sometimes, Koushiro stays up for two days straight mumbling to himself about semi-conductors and math equations. But this is _too_ fucking weird, even for Koushiro. He must have stayed up way too late, is Taichi’s first thought. He pulls the sheet off over his head, ready to pull Koushiro down to the mattress and forcibly tuck him into bed but he- 

“Good morning, Taichi-san.” 

“Oh, Tai. You’re finally awake.” 

Taichi blinks. He rubs his eyes, presses the heel of his palms deep into his sockets and opens them again.   
“Are you alright, Taichi-san?” Koushiro’s thick brows draw together, worry creasing his forehead. “You look a little bit ill. Are you not feeling well?”  
“Well, I would be somewhat shocked as well if I woke up to two copies of my significant other sitting on my bed. I’m sure Tai’s just trying to adjust to this new bizarre reality” Koushi- no, this isn’t Koushiro. Because Koushiro is sitting on his left, knees digging into the mattress as he sheepishly picks at the sheets. But if that’s Koushiro, then who is- 

“You must be wondering what to call me, aren’t you?” Taichi frowns. They have the same short red hair, heavy arched brows, and dark, piercing eyes. He looks _exactly_ like Koushiro, but Koushiro would _never, ever, e v e r-_

“Tai, I’m talking to you.” Talk to him like that. Taichi squirms. 

“I’m wondering _a lot_ of things.” Like how the fuck there’s suddenly two of you, and why one of you is acting so rudely, and why it’s making me h-

“I’m wondering myself what’s going on…” Koushiro, the real Koushiro mumbles, fingers digging deeper into the sheets. Taichi places a hand on the small of his back absently and stares at not-Koushiro. 

“Who _are_ you?” Taichi thinks it’s probably a dumb question, but this entire situation seems dumb. Illogical, Koushiro would probably call it. 

“Izzy.” 

“…Izzy.” Taichi repeats it like he’s stupid. 

“Yes. Izzy Izumi.” 

“…I see.” Taichi’s lying. He doesn’t see anything. 

Izzy, formerly known as Not-Koushiro, climbs onto the bed himself, knees on either side of Taichi’s thighs. 

“To answer the other things you’re most likely wondering, I’m not sure myself how this happened. My theory- or, I suppose, our theory.” Izzy glances at Koushiro, who’s managed press himself against the side of Taichi’s chest. “Is Koushiro and I exist in two separate, parallel universes. As I am Koushiro’s parallel equivalent, Tai is yours, Tai. Or-er. Taichi. San.” 

Taichi is almost 100% sure this wouldn’t make sense regardless, but it makes it _significantly_ harder to concentrate when there are _two_ of his boyfriends, one between his legs and the other against his chest. 

Taichi swallows. 

“He’s saying that there’s two of me, Taichi-san. And also two of you.” Koushiro says softly into his ear. Taichi tries to ignore the way it makes him shiver because now is really not the time. 

“Yeah. I got that much.” Taichi can get behind the parallel universe thing, because for god’s sake, his best friend is a talking yellow dinosaur. At this point, he’s willing to believe anything is possible. This doesn’t answer _why_ he’s ended up with two boyfriends in his bed this morning. 

“From the look on your face, you look like you’re wondering _how_ I ended up here, aren’t you?” Izzy crawls up from between his legs and seats himself in Taichi’s lap. “Unfortunately, I don’t always have the answers. But I do know that him and I-” Izzy juts his chin out at Koushiro, the latter of which has an expression Taichi has never seen cross his face. He looks irritated, bordering on-

“We can’t both exist in the same universe. So Tai, you’re going to have to choose one or the other.” 

_What the fuck?_ is what Taichi wants to say, but Koushiro’s beaten him to it. 

“Please, wait just a moment!” He pushes himself off from Taichi’s chest and crawls over his lap. Koushiro is small, but Taichi doesn’t think his lap is big enough to hold both of them. 

As much as he’d like to be able to…

“Isn’t this _my_ universe? Taichi-san and I belong in this one, shouldn’t Izzy-san be in his own universe with Tai-san instead?” Izzy stares, expression flat and unfaltering. 

“I have no recollection of how to get back. For all I know, that universe could be gone. But I can stay here, if Tai-er. Taichi lets me stay here.” 

Taichi’s head fucking hurts. His eyes dart back and forth between Izzy and Koushiro, identical features contorting into two completely different expressions. Izzy looks almost stoic, brow relaxed and lips tight. Koushiro’s twiddling his fingers, bottom lip drawn between his teeth as his forehead creases in worry. 

“Koushiro? What’s wrong?” Taichi reaches out again, rubs his hand up Koushiro’s back. 

“I. This is making me nervous, for some reason.” Taichi doesn’t understand what there is to be nervous about. 

“What, are you concerned Tai will pick me over you?” Taichi doesn’t fucking get it? There’s nothing to pick, they’re both the same?? “Since it’s rather obvious I’m the more logical choice.”

“I-I’m not worried about such a thing…” Koushiro looks away, eyes fixed on a point deep in the blankets. 

“Then why don’t you ask him?” _Ask him what???_ Taichi already knows he’s lost his mind, but this is going too far. 

“I. Okay. Very well then.” Koushiro turns back and faces Taichi again. It’s the Koushiro he’s familiar with, soft expression and pretty dark eyes. It makes Taichi smile, makes him want to reach out and run a finger down his cheek. 

“Taichi-san. I want to know.” 

“ _We_ want to know.” Taichi snaps his head around. He’s staring at Koushi-no, Izzy, with the same pretty dark eyes and soft, translucent skin. But he’s looking into glazed over pupils and half-parted lips, and it makes Taichi’s skin crawl, because there’s only been so many times Koushiro’s looked at him like _that_ and-

“Who do you want, me or him?” 

Taichi follows the pointed fingers. They point at each other, they point at themselves, Koushiro twice, no Koushiro and Izzy, or Izzy and Koushiro, Taichi doesn’t know. 

It’s like some kind of sick shit Taichi’s only accidentally read in one of Koushiro’s not-so-secret BL novels, except it’s very clearly real. 

They’re both crawling off his lap and between his legs, flurry of red hair and fair skin contrasting against his dark bed sheets. He doesn’t even get a chance to stop them from pawing away at his boxers, because they’re both incredibly quick, and with both of them Taichi really has no chance to say no. 

That’s the excuse he’s using, the reason he’s letting this mess continue. 

Visually, Koushiro and Izzy are identical. There’s no real distinction between the two, but Taichi knows, he knows everything and anything about Koushiro, and there’s no way he’d be able to mistake the two. 

Koushiro has always been shy, sheepish and awkward about what he wants, what he likes, what he needs. When they tug Taichi’s boxers off together, it’s Koushiro that squeaks when his length smacks lewdly against his cheek, flush darkening his skin beautifully. And it’s Izzy who laughs, mischievous and mocking beneath his breath. 

“We haven’t even done anything yet, and you already look like this?” It’s Izzy who wraps his fist around Taichi first, confident and experienced. Taichi doesn’t see this part of him very often. It’s happened once or twice, when they have a little too much to drink after work, when Taichi teases him a little too far, when that switch gets flicked and he pulls out all stops and sometimes, Taichi can’t even recognize his boyfriend when he gets like this. 

“Hey- you’re being unfair…” Koushiro’s pouting, one of Taichi’s favorite expressions for him. Lips are pursed and his cheeks puff out a little bit, unsatisfied and displeased. “Please give me some room, at least.” 

Izzy grumbles but moves over, and Taichi just has to helplessly watch as Koushiro dips his head down and runs his tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip. He drags saliva over Izzy’s fingers, moist and slicked with sticky pre-cum. He brings his fist down, tight and constraining as Koushiro sucks the tip into his mouth. 

Taichi has no idea what the fuck to do. He’s torn between staring and tossing his head back to groan, because _one_ Koushiro is hard enough to deal with, but now there’s _two_ of them, one of them with heavy eyelids and a  smirk curling on his lips, the other with eyes blown wide, begging without words. He reaches forward, tangles fingers in both of their hair. Izzy sighs, leans his head into the touch, and Koushiro whines, sucking harder around the tip and drinking in more. 

“So, do you know who you want yet?” Izzy asks, releasing his grip and bringing sticky fingers to his mouth. Taichi hisses, watches as that tiny pink tongue darts in between the digits, milky white dripping down in beads. Koushiro stops, pulls off Taichi’s cock with a lewd “pop” and stares up, making Taichi’s favorite big, wide-eyed desperate look. 

“All I want to do is make Taichi-san happy…” he says, lips shiny and glossed. 

Taichi is awful. He should stop this immediately, start figuring out a way to send Izzy home, instead of letting the two of them tag team his poor, throbbing cock but-

Taichi is only human. 

“I don’t know yet…You’re both so good, you know?” Koushiro and Izzy might be different, but Taichi knows there must be things about them that are the same. The minute Taichi says “good” he watches as their skin darkens together, sees their lips draw between their teeth as they both whine in unison, arousal darkening their eyes. 

“I’ll be better.” Izzy says, pulling himself onto Taichi’s lap. He wraps arms around his neck, and Taichi can’t help it.  He presses hands over Izzy’s hips and rocks him down, rubbing right up into him, pajama pants barely coming between them. 

“I’ll be good for you, Taichi-san.” Taichi can’t keep up. Koushiro’s on his hands and knees, leaning over his shoulder with his lips parted. Taichi places one hand behind Koushiro’s head, slotting their mouths together, teeth clicking and saliva dripping. 

“Tai, hurry up…” 

“Taichi-san….” 

Taichi looks down, sees two panting, flushed boyfriends and Izzy’s question from earlier rings in his head again. 

_“Do you know who you want yet?”_

Fuck _no_ he doesn’t because he wants _both._

They look at him, expressions completely different even though they both want the same thing. Koushiro begs and pleads with eyes blown wide like saucers and high pitched whines pulling from the back of his throat. He ruts himself against the top of Taichi’s thigh, and he can feel the wetness staining the front of his pants. 

Izzy licks his lips and bites down, chewing on the skin until it dents. He hooks fingers in his pants and slides them down, and Taichi is really only human. He follows pale, perfect skin, traces sharp hip bones with the tips of his thumb, and he really tries to not moan embarrassingly at the sight of his slight, pink cock smacking against his stomach with every bounce in his lap. 

“I’m getting rather tired of waiting, Tai. I can speed things up on my own.” He grips Taichi’s cock in his hand again, tight and impatient and it makes Taichi shudder with anticipation. Koushiro’s wailing on his other side, and Taichi can’t help but think _fuck, he’s jealous, that’s cute, Koushiro is so cute I-_

“Shit, wait Kou-I mean. Izzy. Don’t just do it like that, it’ll-”

“Not necessary. I already made the necessary preparations.” Koushiro squeaks and Taichi has the right to be suspicious. 

“Actually, Koushiro helped earlier while you were asleep.” 

Taichi has to stop for a second. He feels his head go complete empty, feels every single thought and emotion lift from his body because _he can’t believe he slept through watching Koushiro finger himself._

“Shit…I-” He looks down at Koushiro, who’s looking away in embarrassment. He’s ready to say something, something like “how was it finger fucking yourself?” or equally as disgusting, but he can’t because-

“Nnngh, Tai…” Taichi throws his head back and moans, thuds his head against the headboard hard. He watches as Izzy sinks lower, lip between his teeth and eyes shut tight. Taichi brushes a hand along his cheek, skin smooth and soft just like he knows it is. 

He drops his hand from Izzy’s face when he hears whimpering from below. He snaps his head down and catches Koushiro pawing at him, tears beading in his eyes. Suddenly, Taichi feels guilty because _Koushiro_ is his boyfriend, not _Izzy,_ but they’re the same, they’re both Koushiro, or they’re both Izzy, or- 

“Taichi-san, am I not good enough? Are you going to forget about me?” Taichi definitely feels like a fucking dick now, chest panging because _how fucked is it that I think Koushiro looks incredibly sexy when he’s crying I am fucked._

Taichi reaches down and cups Koushiro’s face in his hand, thumbing tears away from his eyes. 

“No, no of course not baby, come here.” Koushiro flushes, like he always does when Taichi has the gall to call him “baby”. He crawls up the bed, and Taichi trails a hand down his back, over the bumps of his spine, and settling to cup his ass. 

“Do you want this?” He asks, trying to keep his voice from giving out as Izzy continues to bounce himself impatiently in his lap. Koushiro whimpers, turns his head away and flushes darker. 

“You’re really not fooling anyone, I hope you’re aware.” Izzy says, staring down at Koushiro, eyes half-lidded. “Just tell Tai what you want. It isn’t that difficult.” Koushiro flicks his head back, heavy brows creasing. 

“It’s…it’s difficult for me…” Taichi feels his chest swell because _Koushiro needs to cut this shit out he’s too cute, too hot too-_

“Come on, Kou. You have to tell me what you want.” Taichi whispers, pressing his lips to Koushiro’s ear. 

“I…I don’t want Izzy-san to hear…” Koushiro glances over, Izzy clasped around Taichi’s neck, head tucked away in his opposite shoulder. 

“He doesn’t have to, just tell me.” 

Koushiro glances around nervously, but leans up, lips tickling the shell of Taichi’s ear. 

“I want Taichi-san to fill _me_ up, please. I’ve been waiting, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” 

_What the FUCK?_

Izzy slams himself down, moan pulling from between his lips and into Taichi’s other ear. 

“Tai, I can’t do this anymore…I’m tired.” Taichi thrusts his hips upward, bouncing Izzy in his lap, body limp and pliant above him. 

“Taichi-san, me too, please, please…” Koushiro presses a cold, plastic bottle into Taichi’s hand and it’s the only way Koushiro knows how to ask for what he wants. He rocks Izzy on top of him, runs a hand over his back as his moans grow uneven, breathing erratic. But then there’s Koushiro, peeling himself out of his clothes, and Taichi hears the lewd wet smack of his length against his stomach. He pops the bottle open, slicks his fingers cold, and reaches to press himself up against Koushiro’s entrance. He bucks backwards, whining impatiently because _I’ve been waiting, I’ve been good, haven’t I?_

It rings in Taichi’s head like a prayer, repeats it over and over and over again because he’s _never_ heard Koushiro be so honest. 

“Here?” he asks, finger tracing the soft pucker of Koushiro’s hole. 

“Nnnnnn…” He hangs his head low, nods quickly before looking away. 

“Good, you have been good, I’m sorry for making you wait so long.” He presses his finger in, slow at first because this is _Koushiro,_ after all, and no matter how many times they’ve done this, Taichi can never will himself to be rough. 

Until Koushiro gets impatient. He thrusts back, burying Taichi’s finger up to his second knuckle. He can feel Koushiro quivering around him, can feel Izzy quivering around him too, oh right, Izzy- 

“Tai, I-I, nghh-! Stop paying attention to him and- _ahn!_ ” 

“Taichi-san, please, don’t stop—!” 

Taichi isn’t a good multitasker. His eyes dart back and forth, struggling to figure out what to focus on, Koushiro’s pretty begging face, or Izzy bouncing on his lap. He wraps hand around Izzy’s neglected cock, swollen, pink and angry. He bucks forward, body curling in a long, uninhibited moan rips from the back of his throat. 

“I- I-! I’m—!”  
“Come on.” 

Izzy even comes differently. Taichi watches as he throws his head back, body arched in a perfect curve. His mouth splits open, and he comes with his head up, voice long and low. 

“You okay?” Taichi asks, petting along Izzy’s hip as he comes down. 

“I’m. More than okay.” Izzy looks at him, tilts his head to the side and grins. “Prodigious, in fact.” 

Taichi doesn’t know what the _fuck_ prodigious means, but he assumes it means he did alright. 

When Izzy doesn’t move, Taichi feels concerned. Izzy’s looking down at where Taichi’s pelvis meets the backs of his legs. 

“Aren’t you going to keep going?”

“…No?” Taichi phrases it as a question. Izzy raises a brow, and that’s another thing him and Koushiro have in common; expressive eyebrows. 

“You haven’t finished yet, though.” Izzy starts to raise himself up again, and Taichi doesn’t know what to do with himself. Koushiro makes some sort of dissatisfied whine from below. Izzy snaps his head over and stares. 

“You already had your chance, Izzy-san.” Koushiro’s moving, raising himself up onto his knees and climbing over Taichi’s legs. “If you’d please, I think it’s fair if I went next?” 

Taichi feels like he’s probably making a stupid face, mouth hanging open because _does this ever end??_

Izzy clicks his tongue but reluctantly raises himself. Taichi bites back a groan when Izzy moves off, tiny moan sounding when he’s completely empty. 

“Thank you.” Koushiro says, crawling back onto his hands and knees. He turns around and arches his back, pillowing his head in his arms. Taichi swallows, follows the curve of Koushiro’s spine over the swell of his ass to the slicked-over pink of his entrance. 

“Is this okay?” Koushiro says, voice soft and shaky.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay.” Saying he’s overwhelmed is an understatement. Taichi’s cock aches, it’s legitimately painful, too hard for too long, overstimulated and throbbing. 

“So, you don’t like being looked at during sex.” Izzy says bluntly from the end of the bed. He’s threading fingers through Koushiro’s hair absently, curiosity crossing his face. “That’s interesting. I suppose you’re the kind of person who’s embarrassed easily.” 

“That’s not-nnnn-!” Koushiro’s voice breaks, hips tilting back as Taichi rubs himself up against his hole. He buries his face in his arms, whine drowned out by the sheets. 

“It’s peculiar how different we are, even though we’re both the same person, after all.” Taichi watches from behind as Izzy pulls Koushiro’s head up by his hair, startled yelp breaking from his lips. 

“But then you make a face like this, and I can only reach the conclusion that you _enjoy_ being embarrassed. How odd.” 

Taichi doesn’t even need to say anything, just needs to watch as his boyfriend dirty talks himself. It’s weird, it’s really fucking weird, but Taichi can’t complain because he feels his dick get harder, somehow. 

“Koushiro, can I-”

“Yes, _yes, please!_ ” Taichi hisses, feels his head swell up because nothing is better than Koushiro being honest. He presses himself in, slow, way too slow, but this is Koushiro, sweet, gentle Koushiro, no matter how strange Izzy seems to be making him act.

“Oh, I think I understand.” Izzy’s cupping Koushiro’s jaw in his hand, tilting his head up to look him straight in the eye. “The further gone you are, the more honest you get. How lewd.” Koushiro whines, tries to turn his head away but Izzy won’t let him. 

“Please stop talking…” Taichi feels conflicted, watching Izzy bully Koushiro is surreal, it’s like a physical manifestation of Koushiro’s mental thought process. Or something. He wants to shoo Izzy away, tell him to stop picking on Koushiro, but there’s also something incredibly appealing about watching Koushiro squirm, watching him come to realization of how _fucked up_ he really is. 

Taichi clicks his tongue. 

This entire thing is fucked up. 

“T-taichi-san…I-you’re. Please keep moving.” Taichi snaps his head back down, so lost in watching Koushiro and Izzy squabble he’s stalled moving. 

“Just tell him what you need. Tell him you want-” 

“Please stop talking!” Koushiro’s flushed up his shoulders, up his neck and over his ears. His eyes are shut tight, coiling away from Izzy brushing his lips over the rise of his cheek bones.

“I won’t. I’m you, remember? I know exactly what you want, so why don’t you just tell him?” Izzy trails wet, open mouthed kisses over the curve of Koushiro’s jaw, and Taichi feels like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be, but he legitimately cannot look away. 

“Nnnngh- I- I…” Taichi pushes all the way in, backs of Koushiro’s legs flush up against his thighs. Taichi groans, because the insides of Koushiro and Izzy even feel different, he can’t quite explain how, but they just _do._

“Tell him, Koushiro.” Izzy kitten licks at Koushiro’s lips and Taichi has to tighten his grip around himself to keep from coming right there because _that_ is _too_ much. 

“I-I!” Taichi thumbs circles into cut of Koushiro’s hip bones, just like he knows he likes it. He feels Koushiro relax, soft sigh parting his lips. 

“It’s okay, Koushiro. You can tell me.” He leans down and brushes his lips against the knobs of Koushiro’s arched spine, feels familiar, soft skin tickle his tongue. Koushiro’s limbs rock, body softening under Taichi’s weight. He tilts his head back, mouth finding Taichi’s ear and whispers,

“I-I want you to cum in me. I- I want to make you come. I want you to want _me,_ not him.” 

Taichi feels his heart drop. He feels twelve things at once because _Koushiro, baby, I_ always _want you, I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t_ and _jesus fuck he’s hot when he tells me what he wants_ and _he wants me to cum in him who is this and what did he do with Koushiro._

Taichi wraps his arms around Koushiro’s waist and sits back until Koushiro is riding him in reverse. 

“A-ah, Taichi-san-what-?” 

“I wanted to be able to hold you.” Taichi mumbles into his ear, lips pressing against the curve of his neck. He nips at Koushiro’s jawline, sucks on perfect, pale skin until tiny, red bruises pop up on the surface. 

“Interesting. So this is what it looks like while I’m-” 

“Izzy, shut up. You’re ruining the mood.” Taichi snaps down, Izzy drawn back up onto the bed and between Koushiro’s legs. 

“What? I’m just curious. I’ve always wondered…” Taichi eyes Izzy suspiciously, lowering his head down with dark, mischievous eyes. 

“A- _ah,_ what are you _doing?!_ ” Koushiro whines, hand fisting in Izzy’s hair. 

Taichi almost stops. He stares at Izzy, lowering his head down and _he can’t believe it, he can’t fucking believe it, this isn’t real I swear-_

“ _Ahhgn, Taichi-!”_ Hearing his name and just his name makes Taichi remember what the fuck he’s doing, makes him remember how his dick is weeping, needs to release, it hurts, it fucking _hurts._ Izzy moans from below, mouth full of Koushiro’s pretty pink cock, and Taichi can’t fucking take it anymore. 

He bucks his hips up, basking in the constant _ahn, ahn, ahn_ tugging from Koushiro’s lips with every little bounce. His head is full of sucking, the smacking of skin, and breathless, little whines and finally-

“Fuck, Koushiro, I-”

“ _Nnngh, please!”_

 

_“Koushiro!”_

“…Yes?” 

Taichi sits up, sweat hair sticking to his forehead and his pants uncomfortably wet. He feels displaced, a little bit crazy, and a lot riled up because _I just had a threesome with my boyfriend twice???_

“Are you alright now?” Taichi lets his vision refocus, vision bleary and fuzzy around the edges. Unkempt red hair and pretty, gentle features clear up, and Taichi only sees one of them. 

“I-I. Where did Izzy go?” Koushiro frowns. 

“Who is Izzy?” 

“….Uh. You…?”

“…Excuse me?”

Taichi looks around the room. It’s the same, one window, children screaming outside because it’s past 10 on a Saturday morning and it’s time for kids to play. Koushiro’s in bed next to him, brows turned down in an expression that says _with all due respect, but what the fuck Taichi-san._

“Uh. Never mind.” 

“…Alright then…” 

“I’m. Gonna go to the bathroom.”

“…Thank you for sharing.” 

Taichi squirms out of bed, pants sticking to him uncomfortably and gross. 

“Oh. When you get back, Taichi-san.”

“What?”  
“Would you like me to finish?” Koushiro gestures to his midsection and Taichi feels like dying. “Or was your dream enough?” 

Taichi stomps away from the bed and slams the door of the bedroom behind him, but not without a “yeah, I want you to finish” before he goes. 


	2. how i handle the digimon tri announcement (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taichi wonders if the new hire likes his coffee black or with room for cream. koushiro wants to win a free pipad. 
> 
> how i handle business is defunct and please stop bothering mali about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday super late birthday danch youre lucky youre 20 bc the only occasion id ever consider touching an office au is for something as momentous as your birth you blessing to this planet. 
> 
> SUPPORT #TAISHIROAGENDA2K15

 

  
He keeps catching glimpses of him all over the office- little flashes of dark red hair and thin, delicate limbs. He’s clearly new, because Taichi has never caught himself looking twice at anyone in this depressing, 9-5 corporate hell hole. But suddenly it’s a 9-5 corporate hell hole with a pretty new employee with legs that look damn good skinny slacks. 

Once, Taichi saw him in the staff lounge, pouring freshly brewed coffee into a dark purple mug. He liked the way his fingers looked wrapped around the handle of the cup, or something, Taichi doesn’t know, he just thinks the new hire looks nice. 

He’d been near ready to strike conversation, ask him how he takes his coffee, dark and black or with room for cream, but someone calls him from the hallway, says “Izumi-san, you’re needed in the Marketing department” and he’s out with a hurried “Sorry, please excuse me,”, brushing past Taichi and out of the lounge. 

That’s been the extent of their interaction in the last two weeks since Taichi had first noticed him in the office. He’s clearly in a different department, Taichi in Communications and Outreach, him probably somewhere in like accounting or financials or something. 

He wonders when _his_ department will need Izumi-san. Soon, hopefully. 

It’s past one, and Taichi knows that if he doesn’t start working on his touch-base list, Sora will sense it, and will come barging into his office threatening to fire him again but really, it’s all empty fire. 

He opens his laptop anyways and cues his phone up to start making phone calls for the next four hours, but the line is dead, his computer is black, and Taichi groans because _fuck I don’t want to deal with IT._

“Motomiya, I need you to call IT.” Daisuke groans from across the hallway, head banging down on the desk. 

“Oh come on, Taichi-senpai, you know they’re complete snobs down there. What do you need them for?” Taichi scratches his head, clicking his tongue. 

“My phone line and network is down. Also, you have to call me Yagami or someone’s going to report you for improper work etiquette.” 

“Ugh, but Taichi-senpai is Taichi-senpai, even if you’re my boss now or something.” 

“I won’t be your boss if you get your ass fired. Now call IT like I said, I know they’re pricks so that’s why _you’re_ dealing with them, not me.” 

Taichi closes his office door behind him, cutting Daisuke’s mumbling about “fuck IT I hate them I hate them”. He sinks into his desk chair, staring at his useless computer and dead phone line. 

The IT department has its reputation in being “the group of snob-ass pricks who only fix technical issues if they feel like it, for certain employees if they like them, on the second Saturday of every month, IF you call them between the hours of 11:49AM-2:17PM” The days where Taichi’s computer refuses to load the company source network are the days Taichi wishes he had stuck with his childhood professional athlete dreams. 

The fact that his computer and phone aren’t working, and that he has to call IT to fix it probably means he may as well just go home for the week. IT won’t get around to it for at least a couple days. Sora will eat him alive, probably. 

There’s a knock at his door, and Daisuke pops his head in. He’s holding his handheld phone, staring at the receiver with a look of disbelief on his face. 

“What? Did they hang up on you?” Daisuke shakes his head. 

“No…They. They’re sending someone up to look at your computer.”

“Like next week?” 

“No. Like right now.” 

“Don’t fuck with me Daisuke.” Daisuke holds his hands up in defense. 

“I’m not. He should be up here within the next few minutes.” 

“Who is ‘he’?” Daisuke shrugs, and Taichi doesn’t know why he bothered asking, Daisuke couldn’t remember his own sister’s name once. 

“I dunno, the new head of IT. Izumo. Isamu. Something like that.” Taichi chokes on nothing, banging his knee against the underside of his desk.

“ _Izumi?!”_

“Ah, yeah, that was it. His personal assistant Miyami or something answered the phone and said he’d be right up.”

“Izumi…is the head of IT?” It _can’t_ be the same Izumi. There’s no way. He’s far too young, he looks like 22 or something.

“I guess…? Why are you acting so weird about this?” Taichi can’t say. He stares at his screen intently, busying himself by creating pointless excel documents, filling the boxes with different shades of red. 

“I’m not. You’re dismissed. Let Izumi-san in when he gets here.” 

“What are you even _doing_ on your computer if the network is down?” 

“Important documents. You’re dismissed, Motomiya.” Daisuke holds his hands up in the air and slips out of the office, door clicking behind him. 

Taichi suddenly feels conscious about the state of his desk, organizing his files and loose papers in a corner, sorting his mail and putting his pens back into his pen canister so it looks like he has some semblance of control over his position as a team leader in his department.

Taichi doesn’t know what’s wrong with him- he doesn’t even tidy up when _Sora Takenouchi his boss the executive director of the entire fucking company_ stops by his office. But this new head of IT has him scrambling over to his bookshelf to make sure everything is straight and tidy, and has him wishing he had a vacuum cleaner and some scented candles. 

Two soft knocks at his door that clearly aren’t Daisuke’s makes Taichi’s heart beat race. He feels like he’s going on a date. It’s fucking dumb. 

“Come in.” Taichi wills his voice to not crack. The door presses open gently, also contrast to Daisuke’s need to swing the thing open until it clatters against the opposite wall. 

“Please excuse me, Yagami-san.” His voice is gentle, soft spoken and smooth around the edges. Taichi wants him to talk more. 

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Koushiro Izumi, and I recently transferred here from one of your sister companies to fill the roll as the Information Technology department head. I’ve heard that in the past the work of the IT department had been unsatisfactory to mediocre at best, so I will put forth my highest efforts to making sure I leave you satisfied. It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Yagami-san.”  

Taichi blinks, definitely doesn’t have _making sure I leave you satisfied_ ringing through his head like it’s pillow talk or something. He has to collect himself, assemble a response in his head that’s like, normal and professional sounding. 

“Taichi is fine. We’re of equal standing. Besides, I don’t really like titles and company hierarchy.” Izumi gives him a weird look, like he’s trying to compute whether that’s appropriate or not. 

“Regardless, I’ve only been with your company for a short amount of time, I really should be addressing you as my superior.” Taichi is 100% sure he won’t be able to survive more than 5 minutes in the same room as this kid if he continues to address him with authority, because Taichi’s as fucked as he can possibly be. 

“It’s really okay. I insist.” _Please,_ he thinks, _for my own health._ Izumi blinks a few times, dark lashes batting against his cheekbones, and Taichi tries to not think about how long they are. 

“Alright, if it’s what you insist. Then, for myself, Koushiro is also alright, Taichi-san.” 

_Oh fuck bad move._ Izum-no, Koushiro’s- voice sounds so. Right, Saying his name. Taichi wants to walk out of his office and personally request Daisuke to shoot him. 

“So, what exactly is the problem you’re facing today?” _Other than the fact that I can’t stop looking at your hips in those slacks I-_

“The phone line and source connection is offline.” Koushiro’s face softens, just the slightest, losing some of that rigid professionalism and formalness. 

“Ah, is that all? This should be a very easy fix, Taichi-san. If I may, shall I move around to your side of the desk?” 

“Please.” Taichi almost says too quickly. He swallows. This is absurd. 

If Koushiro notices anything strange, he doesn’t mention or let on. He bows his head and sets his own laptop down on the desk along with a a clipboard full of codes and terminology Taichi can’t understand. 

Taichi moves to stand up, let Koushiro take his seat at the desk, but then-

“Oh no, please don’t. It’s alright, I can stand. It really won’t take longer than a few minutes.” Taichi wants to bury his face in his hands, groan and let out all his pent up frustration over this _stupid pretty IT head that looks like he’s barely out of high school._

He nods and stays put. Koushiro positions his laptop and leans forward, his body forming a right angle against the surface of Taichi’s desk. He tries so DAMN hard to NOT follow the line of Koushiro’s back to where his ass is pretty much up in the air over his desk. He tries SO DAMN HARD but this is obscene? 

He keeps his gaze trained on a wood spot on the top of his desk. He ignores Koushiro’s ridiculous position and keeps staring until he’s sure he’ll burn a hole in the furniture. 

“There. Everything should be fine.” Koushiro straightens himself and places hands on the small of his back. He hears joints pop and bones crack and Taichi has to bite his lip. He watches as Koushiro runs a hand through his hair, short little tufts of red mussing along the crown. It’s tempting to reach his hand forward, pet through the strands because they just look soft? 

Taichi keeps his hands to himself. 

“Taichi-san? If you could, please check to make sure that everything is now functioning properly.” 

“Oh. Right.” Taichi wants to punch himself. Or ask Daisuke to punch him. 

He palms his mouse and navigates to the company network. The screen flickers and loads, files and documents popping up on his screen. He lifts up his receiver and places it to his ear. The dial tone rings, and to Taichi’s unsurprise, Koushiro’s service was perfect. 

“Everything seems to be working as it should be.” Taichi places the phone down and grins.“Thanks, Koushiro. Great job. Definitely better than our old tech team.” Koushiro looks away suddenly, stares down at the carpet with his eyes head low. Taichi thinks that’s weird, the sudden coyness is- wait, is he blushing?

“N-no worries. The pleasure was mine. If you could, please fill out one of these comment cards. I was instructed by our boss, Takenouchi-san to hand these out after services. If you could also write my name at the top, I’d greatly appreciate it.” 

Koushiro slides a small half-sheet of paper across the desk. Taichi stares at it like it’s highly flammable. 

“…For every comment card we fill out we get entered in a raffle. The winner could win a new PiPad.” Koushiro’s face pinkens, voice sheepish and embarrassed. 

Taichi feels his heart swell because _what the fuck cute unbearable I’ll fill out 40 comment cards for you shit I’ll just buy you a new PiPad if you want????_

“Great. I absolutely will. Thank you.” Koushiro smiles and bows his head. 

“I’m happy to be of service, Taichi-san. Please call if you need anything else.” 

He bows one more time and exits the office quietly. Taichi stands from his desk and watches him walk down the hallway and turn the corner. 

“Hey. Taichi-sepnai. Hey.” Daisuke is tapping on his shoulder incessantly, and Taichi almost snaps and punches him. 

“What? And what did I tell you; call me Yagami or Sora will have you fired.” Daisuke holds up a glass of water. 

“I brought you something to drink. You looked thirsty.” A big, wide, shit-eating grin fills Daisuke’s face from ear to ear. Taichi smacks the glass out of his hand, splashing water all over Daisuke’s blazer and slacks. 

“Worth it.” Daisuke says, still grinning and Taichi really wants to punch him. 

“Don’t even fucking talk to me.” 

Taichi slams his office door behind him, sits at his desk, and suddenly feels the need for a glass of water. 

 

 

In the last month, IT has received 40 calls requesting service. 38 of 40 problems were resolved. Of the two that were left unresolved, Koushiro found that one laptop had been completely fried after its owner had spilled a suspicious sticky, pungent liquid all over the keyboard. Koushiro had looked at it once, frowned, and filled out proper paperwork to dispose of the equipment and report the offending employee. The other unresolved problem, however, Koushiro can’t attest to. 

“Thank you for calling the IT department, this is Miyako Inoue for Koushiro Izumi, how may I help you?” 

Koushiro’s busy wiping old laptops for new employees next week when he catches the glint in Miyako’s glasses. 

“Ah yes, Yagami-san. I see you’re still having trouble with your phone line…Yes. Yes, Izumi-san will be right up with you. Should I just make a weekly appointment for you in Izumi-san’s calendar? Hahaha, no, I’m only kidding. I’ll send him right up, I’m sure he’ll be _happy_ to assist you. Yes. Thank you, good bye.” 

The receiver clicks and Koushiro has some right sense to maybe just leave the office now to avoid Miyako’s-

“Izumi-san…Your regular weekly appointment has called.” Miyako is standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, lips curled in a mischievous grin. 

“Yes, I heard. I’ll be up with him in a minute, I just need to finish wiping these laptops. Miyako-kun, I need you to run these two to Graphic Design, and this one is going to Financials.” Miyako whines, says something about how those two departments are on complete opposite ends of the buildings and it’s such a laborious task to trek to both. She hoists the laptops into her arms anyways and shifts her weight from one side to the other. 

“You don’t need to pretend you’re not eager, Izumi-san.” 

“That’s because I’m not, Miyako-kun. I wish I could fix Taichi-san’s phone line, but for whatever reason, it keeps going down.” Koushiro pops the disc driver of the laptop open and removes the installer. 

“For whatever reason, you said? That’s not like you, Izumi-san, there’s _always_ a reason.” 

“And I’m telling you, that’s what I’ve been spending these weekly check-ups trying to figure out.” Koushiro looks up from the computer and stares at himself in the reflection of Miyako’s glasses. “Why are you so intent on being curious about this? Because there’s nothing to be curious about.” Miyako hums, chin rising with smugness crossing her face. 

“Oh, no reason in particular. Should I let Yagami- oh, excuse me, _Taichi_ -san know you’re running a little bit late?” Koushiro snaps the lid to the laptop shut. 

“He _asked_ me to call him that, I _insisted_ otherwise.” Miyako grins again.

“No need to get defensive, Izumi-san.” 

“I am _not._ ” Miyako giggles. Koushiro frowns. 

Silence fills the office while Miyako writes down the serial numbers of the newly assigned laptops.

“…Is it really that obvious?” Koushiro finally asks, face obscured by the laptop screen. Miyako laughs. Loud. Koushiro flushes. 

“Bingo.” Miyako picks up the final laptop and Koushiro turns his head away. 

“I thought I was relatively subtle about it…” Miyako snorts. 

“If you call weekly lunch dates under the preface of his broken phone line subtle, sure.” Koushiro runs his fingers through his hair nervously. 

“I’m not sure how long it’ll take him to catch on that there’s nothing actually wrong with it, I just never fixed it in the first place.” Miyako sighs, shifting the computers in her arms.

“What?” Koushiro asks, raising on thick brow.

“I talked to Yagami-san’s PA.”

“Ah, Daisuke-kun.” 

“You’re on a first name basis with his PA, too?” 

“…Taichi-san sends him out to buy me lunch sometimes…”

“Unbelievable.” Miyako sets the computers down on her desk and pulls a chair up. Koushiro buries his face in his hands. 

“I should stop this. This is unethical. We work together, I can’t-”

“Daisuke and the genius kid in Financials are fucking.” 

“… _What?!”_

“And the graphic department interns, Takeru and Yagami-san’s sister, they’re-”

“How do you _know_ all of this?!” Miyako shrugs. 

“We send a lot of emails here.” 

“Is this why my diagnostic reports are always late?”

“…Well…” Miyako looks off to the side. Koushiro sighs. 

“What I’m saying is, office rules are meant to be broken. And no one actually cares. It’s not like he’s your boss, or anything.” 

“Even so…It feels. Not right.” Miyako grins. 

“Isn’t that part of the fun?” 

Koushiro opens his mouth to answer, but his phone rings. 

“Koushiro Izumi, IT department.” 

“Ah, Koushiro- sorry, you’re probably busy. Are you still-” Koushiro pales. He feels his face warm up, skin beneath the collar of his shirt heating. 

“A-ah. Taichi-san. No, sorry. I was having a conversation with Miyako-kun and lost track of time. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” 

“If you’re sure? I didn’t mean to-”

“No! No no, it’s quite alright.” He hears Taichi laugh lightly on the other end of the line and Koushiro feels his hair prickle. 

“Great, I don’t think I could finish an entire pizza on my own, and Daisuke definitely doesn’t deserve any of it.” Koushiro laughs nervously, he feels Miyako’s eyes burning holes into his skin from behind her glasses. 

“Well, I guess I’d better make my way up before it gets cold. I’ll be there shortly, Taichi-san. I’m sorry for the wait.” 

“No problem, see you soon, Koushiro.” 

The receiver clicks. Koushiro sets the phone down. 

“He bought you lunch again, didn’t he?” Koushiro looks away. Miyako’s lips curl. 

“Bingo.” 

 

 

“Sora, just fire him, please.” Sora folds her hands over the top of her desk, deceivingly kind smile plastered over her face. 

“And why on earth would I fire the incredibly competent, highly praised, genius head of IT, all because you say so, Taichi?” Taichi pouts.

“Well for one, he hasn’t fixed my phone line yet…” 

“That’s because you keep disconnecting it.” 

“I’m only _human,_ Sora.” 

“This is a personal problem, Taichi. Not a company issue. Now, just accept that the reason we didn’t work out is because you are _painfully_ gay, and I can get back to working on these reports.”

_“He’s so pretty I want to die, Sora.”_

“Congratulations, you’re gay.” 

_“Sora, I literally want to keep him in my office and-”_

Sora presses a hand to Taichi’s mouth. 

“Okay, enough. Less details, please.” She pulls a tissue from the box beside her computer and wipes her hand. 

“If you’re here to ask for my blessings or something, you have them. You’re not his direct superior and he doesn’t work for or with you. Also, you’re clearly lonely and I’m tired of having you spend evenings in my office complaining about how lonely you are and how pretty the new IT head is.” 

“Gee, thanks mom.” 

Sora rolls her eyes and pecks away at her keyboard and Taichi spins himself around in one of her office chairs.

“Also, Taichi. Your follow-up report for this month still isn’t done. I assume it’s because of your ‘broken phone line’. What do you plan on doing about this?” Taichi stops spinning and scratches his head. 

“Uh.” is his intelligent answer. 

“Mhm. Great. Make sure you lock up the floor tonight when you’re done. You’ll be the last one on site. Now, if you’ll please.” Taichi groans and stands from the chair, dragging his feet along the carpet. 

“Also, send my assistant in on your way out.” 

“The new pretty one?” 

“Exactly how many of your co-workers are you interested in, Yagami-san?” 

“Exactly how many are _you_ interested in, Takenouchi-san?” Sora falters, blinks too many times in a row to come off as innocent.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Taichi sneers and pushes the door open. Sora’s assistant pops her head up, hazel eyes wide like a newborn doe. 

“O-oh! Good afternoon…Kamiya-san…?”

“Close, it’s Yagami. Taichi’s fine though. Good to see you, Mimi-chan. I think Sora wants you though, she asked me to send you in.” A light pink flush colors Mimi’s cheeks, and if Taichi were a little less gay, or at least a little less in love, he’d think it was cute. 

“A-ah. Yes. She did say she wanted me to come in right before you walked in during lunch. Thank you, Taichi-san.” She stands from her desk and walks around to the front. Taichi follows the length of her legs, long, thin and milky until skin meets the light pink of her dress. _Nice catch, Sora_ is what he thinks to himself. Mimi bows and Taichi smiles. 

“Oh. By the way. Just for your own information. She may not look like it, but Sora really likes flowers.” 

Mimi’s face colors to the un-dyed roots of her hair and Taichi leaves her stammering in the doorway. He feels his phone buzz against his thigh as he makes his way to the elevator. 

 

mom: _Don’t flirt with my assistant._

 

Taichi laughs and clicks away. 

 

**_you_ ** _dont flirt with yr PA._

 

mom: _I don’t know what you’re talking about._

 

_i wont tell if you dont._

 

mom: _Please. The entire office already knows about your romance in IT._

 

_stop texting me and pay attention to your assistant._

 

The elevator stops at Taichi’s floor. He steps out and turns the corner to his office. 

 

“FUCK- SHIT- MOVE- GO STAND OVER THERE.” There’s some loud clattering and the sound of an office chair wheeling against the floor to hit a steel file cabinet. 

“Where?!” 

“I don’t fucking know??? The supply closet???”

Taichi stops at the start of the hallway and stares at Daisuke’s forehead.  

“Motomiya, Ichijouji-san. Good evening.” Daisuke laughs nervously, teeth and gums fully visible in a grin Taichi would describe as constipated. 

“Taic- I mean, Yagami-san. Good evening. Ichijouji was just…” he trails off. Taichi doesn’t know why he bothers trying to make excuses anymore? It’s the least kept secret in the entire office building. 

“…dropping off some reports for your department.” Ichijouji concludes, placing a flash drive on Daisuke’s desk. 

“Uh huh…” Taichi says slowly. “Thank you, Ichijouji-san, but we have this thing called email now, and I’m sure it would have been a lot faster and less of an inconvenience for you than having to walk all the way here.” Ichijouji’s face freezes, and Taichi feels somewhat bad about how frightened he looks. Just somewhat. 

“Motomiya, why don’t you take off early? I’ll be here late tonight, I can watch the phone for the floor.” 

“What, are you serious? After I just-” Ichijouji yelps and Taichi presses his hand to his forehead. 

“Let me rephrase. Please, Motomiya, Ichijouji, take off early.” Taichi almost adds _I don’t want you rutting it on the office furniture and making a mess of the wood and carpet._

“Uh…Okay! Sure, whatever you say, boss. Do you need anything, water, coffee, dinner-”

“Quiet would be nice.” _And also for everyone in this office to stop fucking each other it feels like an incestuous art commune in here._

“Yeah! Yeah, we- I mean, I- I’m heading out right now! See you tomorrow, Yagami-san. Bright and early!” 

Ichijouji is shoving Daisuke towards the elevator before Taichi can tell him tomorrow is Saturday. 

Taichi settles into his office, fake leather of his rolling chair squeaking beneath his weight. He thinks about how his PA is clearly getting laid tonight by that disturbingly pretty kid from financials, he thinks about how his boss is also clearly getting laid tonight by her equally pretty assistant, and most depressingly, he’s thinking about he _clearly isn’t_ getting laid tonight by the _obscenely_ pretty IT head. 

Taichi runs fingers through his hair and sighs. It’s Friday night past hours, and he’s stuck behind his desk finishing overdue reports while everyone else gets their dicks wet. 

Whatever. 

He’s halfway to pulling files from the source when the network dies. 

Again. 

Taichi doesn’t understand. It’s 8:30 in the evening, and he’s not purposely disconnecting himself like he’s been doing for the past month and some, so he literally doesn’t understand _why_ when he’s actually _trying_ to get shit done, the network gives out. 

Unbelievable. 

Sora will personally choke him with the strap of his goggles. 

Taichi is completely 100% against taking his work computer home. The work computer is called the work computer for a reason, it stays cemented to his desk and never touches the inside of his bag. But to avoid getting potentially fired, or at least avoid having his ass handed back to him by his Incredibly Successful Boss, Taichi supposes he’ll have to take the computer home, just this once. 

He’s begrudgingly coiling his laptop charger and mouse when he remembers. 

_I should probably call Koush- I mean, Izumi-san and leave him a message so he can get to fixing connection problems first thing on Monday…not that I just want to call to hear his voice on the answering machine because that’s totally fucking weird and not what I’m thinking at all??_

Taichi puts the receiver between his jaw and shoulder while he finishes packing his bag. 

“Hello, IT department, Izumi speaking.” 

“Hi Koush-, Izumi-san, good evening. It’s 8:38pm Friday night, and there's problems with the network connection on our floor-again. I was supposed to finish up some reports for S- Takenouchi-san this evening but looks like I’ll have to take care of it at home. Let me know Monday morning when you can fix it.” Taichi pauses. He can’t help himself. “…And I’ll have lunch ready for us when you come up. How does Thai sound? …Thanks. Bye-”

“Thai sounds good.” Taichi drops his keyboard. 

“Koushi- Izumi-san?!” 

“I told you before, Koushiro is fine, Taichi-san.” Taichi can hear Koushiro laughing on the other end of the line. It makes his chest swell, which is super fucking dumb and super fucking gay. “And yes. It’s me. I’ve been on the line the entire time.” Taichi feels himself flush. 

“…Well I mean. I wasn’t. It’s late on a Friday night. I assumed you wouldn’t be in anymore. So I just- well.” 

“I could say the same thing. I nearly had a heart attack when the phone rang so late. I assumed I was the last one on site, other than the janitors of course.” Taichi chuckles. 

“Nah. I’m still here. Sora- er. Takenouchi-san caught me slacking on reports this month since all the tech problems in my office.” 

“My apologies. I’m trying to sort them out as quickly as I can.” Taichi can practically hear Koushiro bowing. He waves his hand in the air. 

“No, don’t. I-” _I what? I like having you over for lunch every week? I like the way you look with pizza sauce on the corner of your lips? I’ve been purposely fucking up my internet connection so I have an excuse to call you every week, and you pretend to not notice and come anyways to keep me company?_

“…What are you doing here so late?” He asks instead. 

“I…” Koushiro hesitates. “I’ve also been a little behind on my work. Miyako-kun scolded me before she left, so I’m here rather late tonight to finish formatting these laptops.” 

“Isn’t Inoue your assistant, not the other way around?” 

“Well, yes. But it’s in her job description to make sure I’m doing everything I need to be doing; including reminding me to eat lunch and get regular sleep.” Taichi leans back in his chair, computer and keyboard completely forgotten. 

“I better let you go then so you go home at a normal hour and sleep.” Koushiro makes a noise on the other end of the line, a noise Taichi _wants_ to interpret as some kind of dissatisfied whine or something, but that’s just him being hopeful and awful. 

“A-ah. That’s not. Really necessary. It’s. It’s kind of depressing how quiet it’s been since Miyako-kun left hours ago. I don’t. Really mind.” Taichi feels his pulse thumping in his neck. 

“Oh. Cool.” _Cool??? Cool?? Taichi really what the fuck???_

“You said your internet was down. Would you like me to come up and look into it?” 

“Yes.” _Holy fuck what the fuck Taichi can you answer any quicker you desperate piece of shit???_ “I mean. Please. If it’s not too much trouble.”   
“It’s never too much trouble, Taichi-san.” Taichi can hear the smile in Koushiro’s voice and he kind of feels like melting. 

“Then, I’ll see you soon? I…I know Thai place that delivers until 10.” 

“Prodigious.”

The receiver clicks on the opposite end, and Taichi’s left wishing he had a vacuum and scented candles.

 

 

 


	3. how i handle the digimon tri announcement (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taichi orders thai food and koushiro hits his leg on a desk 
> 
> this was so goddamn long i split it into two chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 4am ill edit this all later.

Koushiro catches himself in the bathroom on the 5th floor, fussing with his hair and readjusting his tie. Maybe he shouldn’t wear the tie, he thinks, it’s Friday after 8pm, maybe still wearing the tie will make him look stiff? But if he shows up not wearing the tie, what if it makes him look sloppy?

Koushiro leans over the sink and splashes water on his face. 

_Also what was that?! Prodigious?! You haven’t said that out loud since you were 11. Get it together, Koushiro…_

He reaches up, slacks his tie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt. Some sort of middle ground between the two. He observes himself in the mirror again, tugs at his hair in some sort of pointless attempt to get it to lay flat, and finally drops his arms to his side. 

_Relax. You’re going to fix his computer. And eat Thai food. But mostly just fix his computer, which is your job and there’ s nothing strange about this whatsoever._

The fluorescent overhead lights in the building are all off. The floor is lit by emergency lights and bright switches on computers and printers. He makes his way back to the elevator and presses the button the the 10th floor. Koushiro twiddles his thumbs, hands getting clammy and palms feeling sticky. Koushiro hates it, because he’s unaccustomed to the feeling, nervous and put on edge because _Taichi-san this, Taichi-san that,_ warm shades of brown that make his throat close up and mouth run dry, long limbs and dark, sunkissed skin that he’d like to- 

The elevator pings when it stops and Koushiro almost yelps. He flushes, embarrassed in front of no one but himself. 

He steps out from the elevator into more eerie after-hours darkness. Koushiro is half convinced Taichi’s left, half believes that he’s been stood up on the date that never was. 

He walks down the hallway and turns. With how dark it is, Koushiro should have banged his leg directly into Daisuke’s desk, but he curves around it with memorized ease. This disturbs him, because exactly how many times do you have to go somewhere to memorize the furniture layout? 

Koushiro knocks on the door to Taichi’s office. It echoes in the empty hallway, loud and basically telling him _he’s gone, you need to stop getting your hopes up-_

The elevator pings behind him and Koushiro does scream this time, bangs his leg against the corner of Daisuke’s desk and screams again. 

“Koushiro?!” Taichi’s running down the hallway and Koushiro doesn’t think he could be more embarrassed? 

“I’m fine…I’m fine. I was just startled. But I’m fine.” Koushiro’s rubbing his shin, head down so Taichi can’t see how red he feels. 

“Sorry…I was picking up the food from the lobby. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” 

“It’s alright.” _Yes, it’s alright, I was just maybe having a slight mental break over whether or not you decided to leave while I was having a different slight mental break over whether or not to wear my tie in the 5th floor bathroom but really, it’s alright._

Taichi holds up two plastic bags. 

“I hope you like spicy food!” 

 

Taichi clicks on the desk lamp in his office. It gives a dim glow to the room, which sets some sort of disturbing intimate setting. Koushiro wants to slap himself. 

“Okay, so I wasn’t sure what you liked, but you seem like the kind of person who likes noodles and doesn’t like red meat, so I got vegetarian pad see ew, seafood green curry and praram chicken.” Koushiro nods absently, watching as Taichi peels is blazer off and drapes it across the back of his chair. He pulls his tie over his head and unbuttons the cuffs of his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. 

“Koushiro?” 

“Hm.” 

“Is this okay?” Koushiro snaps his head up because _Koushiro Izumi PLEASE focus?_

“O-oh! Yes. Yes it’s perfectly okay. I’m a vegetarian, actually. So this is perfect.” Koushiro takes a plate and fork from the desk and serves himself. He keeps his eyes down, like he finds the tofu in the pad see ew incredibly interesting, and it’s definitely exactly what he wants to have in his mouth right now not- 

Koushiro wishes Miyako were here, so he could ask her to kindly kick him in the jaw. 

“Oh! Do you want something to drink?” Koushiro assumes he means tea, or something, and Koushiro isn’t the type of person to turn down tea. 

“Please, if it isn’t too much trouble.” Taichi grins. 

“It’s never too much trouble, Izumi-san.” Koushiro flushes as red as his hair and turns his fork in his hand. 

“I know Daisuke left something on my desk that one time that-ah! Here.” 

Taichi pulls an _entire bottle of wine_ from his bottom desk drawer and clunks it on the desk. Koushiro stares. 

“What…? Oh! Cups. Right, duh.” Koushiro blinks. The fact that Taichi thinks it’s the lack of glassware that’s causing Koushiro to stare disturbs him to some degree. 

Taichi digs around in his desk drawers again and Koushiro is further disturbed that he apparently keeps wine glasses in his desk along with a full bottle of clearly cheap discount-section wine. 

“…uh. All I have are these plastic cups I took from the water cooler…”

“…That’s alright.” Koushiro isn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Taichi sets out two small plastic cups. 

“How exactly are we going to open this?” Koushiro looks at the wine like it’s about to combust. 

Taichi pulls a multitool out from his pocket and expertly uncorks the bottle. It makes Koushiro wonder how many people he’s had in his office past hours to share Thai takeout and cheap wine in cups from the water cooler.

“Uh. Daisuke. Left this on my desk one night. Because I caught him and Ichijouji from financials- you see the supply room over there? Anyways. He bribed me with this cheap wine to not say anything to Sora and it was just _too funny_ for me to get mad. It’s not like. I keep bottles of wine. In my desk? Regularly?” 

“Mhm…” 

“Really!” Koushiro looks up from his noodles and finds Taichi staring at him with wide brown eyes and an expression he could only describe as pleading. Koushiro can’t help himself. He laughs a little, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. 

“I believe you, don’t worry.” Taichi sighs and relaxes back into his desk chair. 

“Good. I don’t want you to think I’m a fuck up who invites people back to his office at ass o’clock to drink shit wine from plastic cups.” 

“But, that’s exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

“Yeah, but I also got Thai food?” 

“I suppose.” 

Koushiro puts his fork into his mouth and chews. It’s not bad, either. He reaches for his plastic cup of wine but Taichi yanks it back. 

“One sec though, are you even old enough to drink?” Koushiro chokes on a piece broccoli and spits onto his food. 

“I’m twenty-four?!” Koushiro doesn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. To make his point, he snatches the glass from Taichi’s hand and drinks, clearing his throat. 

“What, really? You look- never mind. I guess that makes me feel better, since I was-” Taichi stops and suddenly takes a drink from his own glass. 

“Since you were…?” Koushiro takes another bite of his food. 

“Forget about it.” Koushiro doesnt. Taichi serves himself some of the curry onto the other plate and starts spooning it into his mouth. 

“You look young, that’s all. I thought you were an intern when you first got here, like my sister. She’s barely out of high school. You’re just-” Taichi stops again and takes another drink. 

“…I’m just..?” 

“Never mind.” Koushiro is bothered by all the unfinished sentences. 

“Even so. Twenty-four is young for the head of IT.” Koushiro shrugs.

“Everyone in this company is young. Takenouchi-san can barely be thirty….And, well. You don’t. Look too old yourself.” Koushiro watches as Taichi quirks a brow, lips curling into the smuggest smile Koushiro has ever seen. It makes him simultaneously irritated, but also somewhat-

“Well, thanks. You know, I can’t give you a raise. I’m not your boss.” 

“I- that isn’t- ”Koushiro finishes his first glasses of wine and Taichi immediately refills it. 

“Sora and I just turned twenty-nine. I suppose this is a pretty young company.” Koushiro picks up his cup again and sips rapidly. He blames the fast alcohol consumption for his sudden rise in body temperature, not the knowledge that _Taichi-san is five years older than me why do I think that’s-_

“Sora graduated early though, since she was like, valedictorian and all that. I got lucky and she landed me an opening position while I was still in uni, and it’s be too much of a hassle to find something else.” Taichi leans back in his chair, and Koushiro can’t help but think how textbook the scene is- older, senior employee inviting younger, new hire to his office after hours for drinks. Except they’re eating thai take-out from across the street off styrofoam plates, drinking wine from plastic cups, and Taichi’s chair creaks every time he leans back. 

Koushiro can’t say he minds, though. 

“I also graduated early. I finished my undergraduate before I turned twenty. I recently finished my graduate program.” Taichi groans and finishes his second- maybe third? Fouth?- glass. 

“I’m glad Daisuke is my assistant, because being surrounded by pretty geniuses all the time takes a toll on your self-worth.” Taichi leans forward in his chair and casually scoops more curry onto his plate before he freezes. 

Koushiro almost drops his glass. Instead, he presses it to his lips and downs the remaining half so quickly he nearly drowns in the wine. Taichi busies himself pouring more and Koushiro immediately starts sipping again. 

_Pretty. Pretty. Pretty._ Koushiro’s head already feels a little bit light, but now it’s spinning with Taichi’s voice saying _pretty_ and Koushiro wonders what’d it sound like against his ear, how he can get him to say it again and- 

“Um. Well.” Taichi tries. “I. Hm. Haha. As demonstrated. I’m not. Much of a genius. Like Sora. Or like you. Ah. Haha.” 

“I-I. I don’t. Mind that.” Koushiro isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be saying right now. The plastic of his cup cracks beneath his fingers as it empties out again. He takes a large, undainty bite out of his noodles and busies himself with chewing. Taichi picks up the bottle again and tries to pour. 

“A-ah. It’s empty. When did that happen?” He laughs nervously, pushing the bottle to the side and running a hand through his hair. Koushiro watches the drag of his fingers, brown strands sticking up messily. He wonders what it’d feel like to tug, grab, tangle- 

“I suppose we’ve been losing track of time like this?” Koushiro recrosses his legs. 

“Yeah, I guess so, it’s just nice talking to you I guess I wasn’t paying attention- shit, did you drive here?” Koushiro shakes his head. 

“I take the train.” 

“ _This_ late?!” 

“Well, I usually leave before 8…” Koushiro checks his watch and from what he can make it, it says well past 10. 

“I can drive you home.” Koushiro shakes his head, brain rattling in his skull. 

“No, no. It’s alright. I live on the opposite side of town you don’t have to-”

“I cant let you go home alone, since I’m the reason you’re here so late.” Koushiro’s forgotten how he ended up coming to Taichi’s office so late in the first place.

“It’s not I- I wanted. To be here.” _Stop it, Koushiro, don’t. Just stop before you-_ “I wanted to spend time with you.” _Congratulations, Koushiro-kun. You fucked up!_

Taichi’s plastic cup cracks in his hand. 

“That have anything to do with why you haven’t fixed my network connection in these two months?” Koushiro feels his entire body heat. 

“You knew that…?” 

“Well…Yeah. I was the one who kept disconnecting it in the first place.” 

“But why…?” Taichi smiles, lopsided with a tilt of his head. 

“Because I wanted to spend time with you.” Koushiro feels himself blush, but he doesn’t look away, maybe it’s the shitty wine but-

“Why didn’t you just ask then?” 

“Why didn’t _you?_ ” 

Koushiro’s chest hits the desk suddenly, and he realizes he’s been leaning across the surface, palms flat against the wood with his spine arched. Taichi is leaning down , close enough that Koushiro can feel his breaths ruffling his hair, can smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the wine they finished together and it’s just- 

“I-can I ask now?” Koushiro raises a knee and climbs up onto the desk. _What the FUCK do you think you’re doing, Koushiro?!_ he asks himself, but it’s too late because both knees are up on the desk now, Taichi’s weaving arms around his waist and trailing fingers up his spine, and the skin beneath Koushiro’s collar feels too hot, way too hot. 

“Ask me what, Koushiro?” Koushiro shivers, likes the way Taichi’s always saying his name, always ending sentences with _Koushiro_ because it reminds him it’s _him_ he wants, not someone else. 

“Can I. Spend more time with you?” Taichi laughs, low and thick and it makes Koushiro’s spine tense. 

“Yeah. I’d like that. What do you want to do?” Taichi runs a hand beneath Koushiro’s jaw, hold his head up so he can smother Koushiro in soft browns. 

“Satisfy you with my service.” Taichi flinches. He drops a hand and snorts, laugh bubbling from between his lips. 

“Yeah, alright, just don’t make me fill out a comment card when you’re done.” 

“But I could win a free PiPad?” Taichi rolls his eyes and leans forward, pressing chapped lips against Koushiro’s soft, plush mouth. He relaxes, sigh high and light from the back of his throat. 

“Shh. I’ll just get you one. Whatever you want.” Koushiro leans back and contemplates this. 

“Right now, more of that would be nice.” Koushiro paws at Taichi’s shirt, crisp starched fabric wrinkling beneath his fingers. The logical thought process he’d prided himself on for years is wiped clean by the scent of red wine and men’s cologne. Koushiro hasn’t done this much, gotten to fumbling around between entrance exams for graduate school and some feeling up here and there when his roommate managed to drag him out to the bar but this is-

“Sit on the edge of the desk.” Koushiro whimpers, feels like Taichi’s voice was made just to tell him what to do. He crawls across the desk and swings his knees over the side. 

“Is this okay?” Koushiro needs to know. Taichi stands from his desk chair and places his palms flat against the desk, arms on either side of Koushiro’s thighs. 

“Yeah. More than okay.” He runs fingers along the side of Koushiro’s cheek, down the side of his neck, presses in the hollow of his throat. Koushiro feels like he’s going to burn, skin rising beneath the trail of Taichi’s fingertips. 

Taichi stops at the knot of Koushiro’s tie. He shivers, long fingers wrapping around the dark purple silk and pulling just tight enough to make Koushiro’s breath catch, but then Taichi looks at him, dark brown eyes warm and concerned. 

“You okay?” he asks, grip on the tie loosening to a gentle tug. It makes Koushiro’s heart beat faster, in his ears and in his throat. Taichi reaches up, threads his fingers in the hairs at the nape of Koushiro’s neck. 

“Yes. I’m okay. I-thank you for asking.” Taichi smiles, different this time, smugness replaced with warmth and Koushiro thinks he likes this look on him. Taichi leans forward and presses his lips against the corner of Koushiro’s mouth.

“I just like making sure.” Amusement flashes across Taichi’s face. 

“What are you thinking about?” Taichi laughs and tilts Koushiro’s jaw up. 

“Nothing…I’m just wondering. Are you sure you’re twenty-four?” 

“…Yes…?” Koushiro raises a brow. 

“I don’t have to check your ID, do I?” Koushiro opens his mouth to retort, something along the lines of _with all due respect Taichi-san but your attempts at flattery really fucking suck?_

“Because the entire time you’ve been here I thought I was doing something illegal, you looked so young, like less barely twenty or something. I guess that’s what you get for being such a pretty boy” Koushiro swallows, head spinning in a strange combination of flustered, conflicted, aroused, and vaguely irritated at the gall of Taichi’s smugness. 

“I-I. I’m twenty-four.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” That smug smile spreads across Taichi’s face again, and Koushiro is torn between wanting to punch him and asking him to pin him to the desk. 

“You look nice flustered like this.” Taichi starts moving again, nipping down the side of Koushiro’s neck and below his shirt collar. 

“A-ah…” Koushiro presses a hand to his mouth, flushing because wow _embarrassing, embarrassing…_

“Even your voice is pretty. Why are you so good at everything?” Koushiro whines, feels Taichi’s hands pawing up the front of his shirt, thumbing at the buttons of his shirt. 

“I-I’m not…” He feels a button slip through the hole, Taichi’s tanned fingers contrasting against the pale flat of his chest. 

“Mm, but you are.” Taichi runs his hands beneath Koushiro’s shirt, running his thumbs between his ribs, over the dip of his waist, across his stomach and back up to press at his chest. 

“So, where do you like to be touched, Koushiro? Are you going to tell me or…?” Koushiro flicks his head away, lip caught between his lip to keep his voice from slipping. 

“That’s okay, I like playing.” Taichi runs a thumb across the jut of Koushiro’s exposed collar bone and down the middle of his chest. He tenses because _no, not there, not there because I can’t-_

“NnnNNN-!” Koushiro’s mouth splits open, bottom lip dented from the fronts of his teeth. He can see Taichi smirking in the dim lighting of the office. 

“Here? You like it here?” 

“I-I…” Taichi rolls his thumb and forefinger over the pink nub, perky and sensitive and it makes Koushiro want to _cry_ because _embarrassing, this is so embarrassing but it feels so-_

“Harder?” Koushiro whines, spine curling when Taichi presses harder, flicks his fingers above his chest and it’s too much, this isn’t like those times in university? Taichi’s fingertips are calloused, hands experienced and most of all they feel _right_ and it’s making Koushiro-

“Taichi-san…” Koushiro presses his face into Taichi’s shoulder, breath heavy and body hot. He claws at the back of Taichi’s shirt, reserve gone because it just _feels_ too- 

“Are you getting impatient?” Taichi whispers, hands running over the arch of Koushiro’s back. “Do you want something?” Koushiro looks away because he’s not going to answer that _god don’t answer that?_

“More…Please. Taichi-san…” _I said not to answer that?!_

Taichi’s hands still, low groan rumbling in the back of his throat. 

“I can’t really say no to you when you sound like that.” Taichi presses his mouth against the dip of Koushiro’s throat, trails his tongue down and bites at soft, delicate skin. Koushiro gasps, sharp pain making his skin prickle. He thinks about looking in the mirror tomorrow, and maybe he’ll like the way bruises look on his pale skin. 

“You’re so delicate. I’m afraid of breaking you. But also…” Taichi lowers his mouth and breaths over Koushiro’s raised, abused nipple. Koushiro whips his head with a high pitched whine and buries his hands in the mess of Taichi’s hair. 

“But also…I want to see you ruined.” Taichi lowers his mouth, pulls the bud between his lips and sucks and Koushiro can’t _he can’t, he’s losing his mind, he’s gone, it’s-_

“F-fuck, Taichi-san…” Koushiro can feel his eyes watering, tears of arousal beading at the corners. “S-so good…” 

“You like that? Feel nice, Koushiro?” Koushiro wonders why Taichi keeps asking because isn’t it clear? Taichi has him arching off the desk into his mouth, skin tinged pink and mouth shaped in a wet “o”, and Taichi’s asking him if it feels nice?

“W-what do you think?” Koushiro manages, fingers tangling deeper in Taichi’s hair. He lifts his mouth, saliva trailing from Koushiro’s chest to the edge of his lips. 

“I just want you to say it. I want to know how you feel.” Koushiro tilts his head. 

“Taichi-san you’re a bit…” He pauses. Taichi stares. 

“A bit of a romantic? I get th-”

“Cheesy. Taichi. Tai…cheese. Taicheese.” Koushiro blinks. _What. What? Koushiro. What?!_

Taichi stares at him, hands frozen on the dip of his hips. 

“I.” Is all Koushiro can say. 

And then Taichi laughs. Koushiro watches, watches the way Taichi’s eyes crinkle in the corners, the way his lips curl up like it’s so _easy_ and Taichi was born to laugh for him. 

“You’re _so cute_ you’re _unbelievable.”_ Taichi presses his head into Koushiro’s shoulder. “I feel like this is a bad time to say this, but is it okay if this isn’t just a one time stupid after-work drunk fling because _I really like you, you’re amazing?”_

It’s not the reaction Koushiro’s expecting. He presses a hand up to his lips, tries to hide his smile but Taichi is a little bit contagious. 

“Of course. I’d. That’d make me happy.” And Taichi smiles more, the one Koushiro’s learned he likes best, genuine and toothy that reaches the warmth of his soft brown eyes. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Awesome. Man, I can’t believe I just asked you out in the middle of sex on my desk but like. Yeah.” Koushiro giggles. 

“I don’t mind.” Koushiro reaches up and cups Taichi’s jaw in his hand. “But…if it’s okay. Can we keep going?” Taichi leans down and presses his mouth against Koushiro’s again. It feels different, somehow, maybe Koushiro’s just drunk, but it feels tender, relaxed, easy. Koushiro melts into it,and for the first time, Koushiro isn’t thinking about anything but _feeling_ everything. 

It’s probably the alcohol, but Koushiro’s feeling bold. He kitten licks at Taichi’s lips, asking _please, more_ without any more embarrassing words. Taichi sighs and opens his mouth. He lets Koushiro kiss him clumsily, presses a hand to the back of his head and holds him close. Koushiro feels Taichi petting down his stomach with his opposite hand, rubbing down the inside of his thigh and pressing his legs apart. He likes it, Koushiro determines, he really likes it, wants more, thinks maybe he can’t get enough. 

Koushiro rocks his hips, saying _please, more_ without embarrassing words, presses himself against the heel of Taichi’s palm. He breaks the kiss, gasps and scrunches his eyes shut, if just to keep his head from spinning. 

“Do you need something, Koushiro?” The smug smile is back, but even that feels different now, it heats Koushiro’s skin all the way from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair. Taichi presses his hand down hard, Koushiro whining and bucking his hips up to meet. 

“Taichi-san, please…” Koushiro’s learning, always quick to pick up and figure out. He’s deliberate this time, eyes wide and pleading, mouth rounded and lips pursed. And the way Taichi looks down at him, dark pupils blown wide and lips drawing between his teeth, Koushiro thinks he’s got something figured out. 

“Please touch me.” The cheap wine definitely did its job, Koushiro thinks. He’s wrapping a hand around Taichi’s wrist and pulling his hand to his belt buckle. He hears Taichi swallow, and Koushiro wonders if this is what it’s like to feel in control. 

Taichi tugs at Koushiro’s belt, pulling it through the look and unfastening the button to his slacks. 

“I hate these pants….” Taichi mumbles, thumbing the zipper down. 

“…Why?” Koushiro says, ignoring how breathless he sounds. 

“They’re too tight. They’re an office distraction.” Koushiro flushes. 

“I. They’re the only ones that fit me.” Taichi smirks. 

“Becuase you’re so dainty and small, aren’t you?” Koushiro lifts his hips and lets Taichi roll his pants down his thighs. “Such a pretty boy…” 

Koushiro can’t do it. He feels his entire body shake, loud moan ripping from between his lips. Taichi grins all lopsided and cocky. He ghosts his hand over the front of Koushiro’s briefs, hips twitching madly beneath him. 

“A-ah, Taichi-san…” 

“Didn’t I tell you ‘Taichi’ was fine?” 

“B-but…” 

“That’s alright, I’ll just have to fuck you up enough to get you to stop being so polite to me.” 

Taichi wraps his fist around Koushiro’s length. The friction from the cloth and the heaviness of Taichi’s hand makes his vision go black. He’s never _been_ this hard, it almost hurts, Koushiro just wants to get fucked, wants to be fucked, wants to-

“Let me suck you off.” _What the fuck, Koushiro._

“…what?” Taichi’s hand is frozen, smug ass grin wiped clean off his face. 

“Please, can I suck you off?” Koushiro can’t tell if he’s still being polite, or just fucking with Taichi at this point. 

“I. I. Uh. Yeah. Okay. If you’re sure.” Koushiro isn’t having it. He’s sliding off the desk and on his knees, slacks still pooled around his thighs and cock straining the fabric of his underwear. 

He fiddles with Taichi’s belt, ignores the way his hands are shaking because _it’s fine this is fine I’m just giving my co-worker a blowjob in his office near midnight this is absolutely fine and ethical._

Koushiro might be sobering up a little bit, because he feels his doubts creeping in. Until he undoes the zipper of Taichi’s pants, hears the hiss from above, and catches his thumb in the waistband of his slacks and boxers. 

Koushiro’s head goes hazy again and any sort of doubt or shame he managed to recollect is wiped clean at the sight of Taichi’s stiff cock, scent thick and heady, precum beading at the tip. 

It’s in this moment that Koushiro realizes he might. Be a little bit of a- 

“I never thought you’d be the kind of boy that gets off on sucking dick.” Koushiro didn’t think he was either. He hums and draws the tip into his mouth. The minute he feels the weight against his tongue, the stretch against his cheeks, Koushiro knows it’s something he _likes._ He presses deeper, wanting his mouth fuller, stretcher wider. 

“Shit, you’re _so_ good…” Koushiro feels arousal wave through his body collecting in a desperate mewl that surrounds Taichi’s cock. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Taichi asks, stroking a finger down Koushiro’s cheek. Koushiro whines again, hollows out his cheeks and sucks harder. 

“Yeah? Is that a yes?” Koushiro’s conflicted because _is this something I like am I really going to admit that this is something I enjoy?_ but also _I love the feeling of my mouth being full I don’t know what to do?_

Koushiro blinks, tears streaming down his face and pooling at his chin. 

“Be good and tell me you like it, Koushiro.” Koushiro gives up. The littlest bit of his modesty crumbles because _Taichi-san, Taichi-san, I want to please Taichi-san._ He sinks himself as low as he can, feels the tip of Taichi’s dick hit the back of his throat and it hurts in the best way, chokes a little bit and it’s _great._ He hears Taichi moan, tug on Koushiro’s hair to anchor himself. Koushiro pulls off with a lewd wet _pop_ and says,

“I just want to make you feel good, Taichi-san.” 

Taichi looks down, face contorted in this strange mix of arousal, adoration, and outright shock. Koushiro licks his lips and stares up at Taichi saying _what now?_

“Can you stand up for me, Koushiro?” Koushiro hums and gets back onto his feet. 

“Face the desk?” Taichi phrases it like a question, and Koushiro wants to laugh, feels his heart warmed that even now, Taichi still manages to be gentle. 

“Okay.” Koushiro turns around and presses his palms against the surface of the wood, back curled and ass up. He vaguely recalls putting himself in a similar position the first day he met Taichi, and to this moment, he can’t quite tell if it had been calculative or not. 

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me?” Taichi mumbles to himself. He smooths a hand down Koushiro’s back, spine arcing along his fingers. Fingers drag along the swell of his ass and Koushiro shivers. Taichi hooks into the waistband of his underwear and freezes. 

“Shit I don’t have lube.” Koushiro’s feels his chest sink. He feels like it’s both good and also terrible news, good because at least Taichi doesn’t keep lube in his office like he expects things like this to happen, but also terrible news because _I’m hornier than I have ever been in my life and I’m not ready to leave like this?_

“WAIT. WAIT HERE.” Taichi is out of the office in seconds, leaving Koushiro with his ass half out above the mahogany wood of Taichi’s desk. 

“I know this hoe probably has… HA. Disgusting, but whatever.” Koushiro hears clattering of desk drawers and the sliding of an office chair. He returns almost as quickly as he left, twirling a small clear bottle between his fingers. 

“Let me guess, also Daisuke-kun?” Taichi grins wide. 

“Gross, right?” 

“You could get him fired.”

“Yeah but, what would I do without him?” Taichi rounds the desk and positions himself behind Koushiro again, thighs flush against each other. Koushiro hears the plastic crack behind him and he’s shivering, anticipating, legs quivering because he’s tired of waiting. 

“Are you okay?” the tone of Taichi’s voice makes him sound like he’s asking himself, not Koushiro. Koushiro turns his head and runs fingers through Taichi’s hair. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Do you want this?” The way Taichi asks is different, Koushiro can hear the hitch in his voice, feel the shake of his hand against the small of his back. 

“Why do you keep asking?” Koushiro leans back and presses a kiss against Taichi’s cheek. “I do.” Taichi leans in, foreheads pressing together. 

“I just like to know. I like to know I’m doing okay.” Koushiro leans back and feels a smile spreading his lips. 

“Taicheese.” Taichi laughs. 

“Yeah, that’s me.” Koushiro turns back around, arms pressed back against the surface of the desk. He rocks backwards, pressing himself against Taichi’s pelvis. He feels the outline of his cock pressed up between his legs and it makes Koushiro’s jaw slack. 

“It all feels good, Taichi-san. Please keep going?” Taichi groans, rutting himself against Koushiro’s backside. 

“Koushiro, why are you like this?” Koushiro doesn’t know the answer, just mewls when he feels Taichi press up against the pucker of his hole, he wants it, it’s too much, it’s- 

“Taichi-san, _please-!”_

Taichi moves back and Koushiro hears a squirt. 

“Warm or cold?” 

“C-cold.” 

“Or are you just impatient?” Koushiro can hear the smirk in Tachi’s voice.   
“I am-aa _-ahhn—!”_ It is cold, just like how Koushiro knows he likes it, but it’s different, Taichi’s fingers are longer, thicker heavier as they press in slow, too slow, Koushiro _hates_ being treated so delicately. He rocks back, trying to bury Taichi’s hand deeper, but a hand stills on his hip. 

“Come on, be good and calm down a little bit, I don’t want you to come too quickly.” Koushiro whips his head back, desperate whine pulling from the back of his throat. He feels his spine curl with Taichi’s finger, pressing harder, pushing deeper until-

“ _Fuck, Taichi-I!”_ He feels Taichi grin into his shoulder. 

“Perfect. You’re perfect. Say that again.” Taichi pulls his finger out, Koushiro whining at how empty it feels, until Taichi presses back in hard with two. Koushiro cries, mouth split open, saliva pooling at his chin. 

“Nngh, Taichi, Taichi…” Koushiro can feel how gone he is, can hear the little _ah, ah, ah_ that comes with every plunge of Taichi’s fingers. He can feel Taichi’s dick rubbing against his leg, precum coating the inside of his thigh and he’s just-

“Taichi-san, please…” Koushiro’s clawing at the desk, blunt nails digging into the wood. 

“Please what, Koushiro?” 

“P-put it in. Please, please…” 

“So good, you’re so good.” Taichi pulls his fingers out, lube dripping down the inside of Koushiro’s thighs. His legs quiver beneath him, he feels ready to give out, feels the wet spot his aching cock’s left on the surface of Taichi’s desk. Taichi’s lining himself up from behind, tip pressing against his slicked entrance, and Koushiro feels his mind haze over. 

“Is this what you want?” Taichi asks, thumbing over the sharp bones of Koushiro’s hips. 

“ _Yes, yes, nnnhgh…”_

Taichi presses in, slow, slow, _slow,_ and Koushiro wants to scream. He loves the stretch, loves the weight, loves the feeling of being full and feeling so _close._ He buries his face in his arms and moans, so loud it cracks in the middle, high and obscene. 

“Oh, fuck- _fuck_ Koushiro you’re _so fucking good…”_

“Taichi-san, more, please, faster, more….” Taichi presses his hips further in, stretching Koushiro wider until his hips are flat against the back of Koushiro’s thighs. His back is curled beautifully, every knob of his spine jutting out against milky white skin. Taichi reaches forward, paws at the front of Koushiro’s chest until- 

“ _Taichi-san!”_ Koushiro practically screams, Taichi rolling desperately hard pink nubs between his fingers. 

“You’re so cute, fuck, _fuck-_ hearing you like this makes me want to-”Taichi pinches hard and Koushiro snaps his head up, clenching down tight around Taichi’s cock. The moan is long, makes Taichi almost stop because _shit, I’ll come, I’ll come all over him if he-_

“Taichi-san, don’t stop, please don’t you dare stop!” Koushiro’s rocking back against him, hips rocking desperately. It’s too much for Taichi, he can’t do it, Koushiro’s too perfect, too pretty, too- 

“Koushiro- I- fuck, I need to, I ‘m gonna-” Taichi tries to pull out, because god spite him if he’s going to make Koushiro deal with going him with an ass full of- 

“No, _no, please don’t pull out.”_ Except Koushiro sounds like he’s about to burst into tears, whines desperate and high. Koushiro shoves back, burying Taichi up to the base again and that’s-

“I need you to come in me, please.” _What a fucking hoe what is this what the fuck he looks so innocent what did I get myself wrapped up in??_

It’s too late. Taichi’s thrusts are getting erratic, Koushiro’s mewling in front of him, legs dripping with precum and lube, back arched like a cat and Taichi can’t _do it._

He spills himself with Koushiro’s name on his lips, _Taichi-san, Taichi-san, Taichi-san_ echoing in his head while cum drips over Koushiro’s rim. 

“Fuck, Koushiro, you haven’t cum yet?” _What is this kid_ Taichi thinks, head spinning from shit wine and amazing sex. Koushiro just whimpers, and it makes Taichi’s heart ache. 

“Sorry I came so fast. I’ll work on it. Turn over for me so I can see your pretty face when you cum?” Taichi helps Koushiro roll onto his back and _wow._

Koushiro’s a mess. Precum from his own, weeping cock spreads over the flat of his stomach. He’s flushed pink from his cheeks to his shoulders. Small bites litter his chest, raised pink nipples are begging to be played with more and it’s all so-

“You’re beautiful.” it slips out because Taichi never thinks. Koushiro’s eyes widen, Taichi thinks he sees his dick twitch, and Koushiro must be out of words because all he does is moan, pretty much wide in a nice wet “o”. 

“Let me see you come, okay?” Taichi wraps a fist around Koushiro’s cock, small and delicate just like the rest of him. Taichi loves it, thinks it’s pretty too, just like Koushiro’s is, wants to spend all night playing with it, making Koushiro whimper and say his name _that_ way, _Taichi-san, Taichi-san, Taichi-san…_

Koushiro’s so slick, hand moving easily over the shaft, thumb dipping into the head. 

“Aah- aah- nnn- nnn-!” 

“Yeah, I know, I know, come on Koushiro…” 

Taichi runs hands over Koushiro’s chest again. He thinks he’s figured it out, thinks he knows exactly what Koushiro needs, and maybe he can- 

Taichi leans forward, mouth pressing against Koushiro’s chest. He bites around the skin, teeth scrapping, tasting, mouthing over hardened nipples until-

“Fuck, fuck _fuck-!_ ” That’s it. Taichi draws the nub between his teeth, just enough so that- 

“ _Taichi—!”_

Taichi pulls back just in time to see pearly white splatter up from his fist, coat Koushiro’s chest and leak over the side of his fingers. He sees the way Koushiro’s eyes squeeze tight, the way he tries to keep any sound down by biting his lip but it’s pointless, because Taichi thinks he’s heard everything at this point. 

“Perfect, you’re perfect, you’re so perfect…” is all Taichi can think of saying, stroking Koushiro’s sides as he relaxes, back lowering do the surface of the desk, fingers unclenching an d eyes reopening slowly. 

“W-was my service to your needs, Taichi-san?” Taichi laughs, presses his face into Koushiro’s shoulder and mumbles, 

“I am _not_ filling out acomment card for this.” 

 

 

 

 

The staff room smells like freshly baked cake. It’s exactly what Taichi needs to go with his long-lasting 3 day hangover headache. Literally fuck Daisuke, what was in that shitty wine? 

Taichi sets his coffee mug down next to the coffee maker and pours himself a cup to the brim. 

“…Who’s cake is this…?”

“In this office? It could be anyone’s.”

“What a strange thing to congratulate someone on.”

“Hey, it’s hard for some people.” 

Taichi turns around, sees a good handful of eight people gathered around one of the circular tables. He walks to the crowd and feels his entire body freeze. 

A single pan circular cake sits in the middle of the table. Frosted white with red writing, it looks like Taichi’s favorite- red velvet. The text, in beautiful, immaculate script but _awful English reads “CONGRATS GAY”._

 

_i cant believe this._

 

_mom: You’re welcome. It’s your favorite. Red velvet._

 

_thats not even proper english???_

 

_mom: That was always your stronger suit. Please save me and Tachikawa-san a slice._

 

_how did you even know???_

 

_mom: We send a lot of emails here._

 

Taichi pockets his phone, infuriated and sips angrily at his coffee.

_If I just don’t eat any of it, no one will know it’s mine…_

 

“Excuse me, please. I have a knife.” Soft and delicate, but a little hoarse around the edges, Taichi’s spend _far_ too much time listening to that voice this weekend to ever mistake it. 

Koushiro parts a crowd in the staff room, calmly slicing the gay cake into perfect equal slices. Taichi stares at him, mouth open like _Koushiro what the fuck are you doing._

“Ah. Taichi-san, good afternoon. Your cake from Takenouchi-san’s just been sitting here all day. It’s rather good. Please, try a piece.” 

The entire staff room stares as Koushiro crosses the room, fork in hand. Taichi watches as the _Koushiro literally feeds Taichi cake in front of the entire staff room._

Stupidly, he takes a bite. 

“…Thank you, Izum- Koushiro.” 

“No, thank Takenouchi-san.” Koushiro smiles, smug and cocky and Taichi wonders where he picked that up from. 

 

_mom: By the way, the flowers Tachikawa-san gave me are beautiful. I wonder who she heard that from._

 

_well, you know, gotta look out for each other._

 

_mom: Did you get those reports done, by the way?_

 

_uh._

 

 

 


	4. fam whats your snapchat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mimi forces koushiro to get a snapchat, iori broke all the window handles, and taichi should double check who he sends his snaps to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS this took me 500 years to write and i cant really tell you why  
> why is it so long  
> i am so sorry 
> 
> content warnings; referenced drug use, background pairings, and an excessive documentation of selfie culture 
> 
> dont take me seriousy i dont take me seriously

Koushiro enjoys routine. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Koushiro eats dinner in the cafeteria exactly at 6:34PM, because class ends at 6:15, and it takes exactly 19 minutes to walk from the Science building to the cafeteria. On average, there are between 15-22 people in line by the time he arrives. It takes 12 seconds to fill a mug with hot coffee; he saves time by not using creme or sugar. It takes another 2 minutes to get from the drinks station to the salad bar, where Koushiro fills exactly half a plate with mixed greens lightly drizzled with balsamic vinegar. 

Like any other university cafeteria, there are “nightly specials” that rotate periodically to uphold the false concept that university life has variety, and that college students actually eat things other than pizza and dry cereal on a regular basis. 

Koushiro unlatches one of the corn flake dispensers and fills a bowl to the brim. He skips over the milk. 

Ordinarily, Koushiro is sitting at one of the window tables by 6:42. He walks from the cereal bar to the pizza counter automatically, completely preoccupied with mentally organizing the work he needs to get done on the economics project for tomorrow, because he’s positive his presentation partner, Tachikawa, hasn’t done any of her slides. 

He thinks he doesn’t really have any right to get mad, because he hasn’t done any of his, either. But thinking about doing it is one step closer to actually starting. 

It’s 6:41PM, and by this time, Koushiro’s usually gotten his weird, square shaped slice of university pizza. Instead, he’s staring at an empty pizza tray and has a head full of unfinished econ slides. 

Koushiro stares at the grease covered tray and blinks. He looks at his watch. It says 6:43. He stares at the tray again. In the two years Koushiro’s been attending this university, this has never happened before. He stares helplessly at the empty pizza counter, thinking about how not having the pizza would cause him to miss the most important food group in a college student’s food pyramid. 

“Hey, hey, sorry for the wait, the person who usually does pizza called out sick but I’m telling you he actually hotboxed his entire dorm room with industrial duct tape and insulation foam, and is too stoned to figure out how to get himself out. I just got here so the pizza’s cooking up in the oven.” Koushiro snaps his head up and stares. 

“...No worries.” Warm, brown eyesstare at him from over the pizza counter, and Koushiro’s usually pretty bad at holding eye contact, but for some reason he doesn’t particularly feel like looking away. This disturbs him. 

“Sorry about this. I’m just fucking up your whole dinner, aren’t I?” 

“It isn’t you. Please don’t worry about it.” 

“I hate making people wait, though.” Koushiro has no idea why this cafeteria employee is still talking to him.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind waiting.” Koushiro _definitely_ doesn’t know why he’s giving responses. Pizza counter guy smirks, crooked on the corner of his lips, and Koushiro’s grip tightens on his tray. 

“Is that so…” It sounds like he meant to say it to himself, but Koushiro hears. The oven beeps from the kitchen, and for some reason, Koushiro kind of wishes his pizza weren’t ready yet, so he could stand aimlessly at this pizza counter for a little while longer. 

“Well, looks like your pizza’s done. Let me get that for you.” 

“Thank you.”Koushiro watches as he walks back into the kitchen until he can’t see him anymore. 

Unfinished Econ slides completely escape Koushiro’s mind, replaced completely with shades of brown and the olive green of the kitchen staff uniform. He wonders if there’s something wrong with him. Maybe he needs to go outside a little bit more. Maybe he’s people starved. 

“There you go. Pizza made by me specially for you.” He has the gall to wink and Koushiro has the audacity to blush. 

“...Thank you.” Pizza counter guy slides the slice onto his tray and Koushiro can’t help but stare at his hands, all long, tan, tan fingers perfect for- 

“See you around.” He cocks his head to one side and smiles. Koushiro walks away stiffly, sits in the corner table he sits at every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night, sets his tray down, falls into the seat, and puts his head in his hands. 

It’s 6:54. 

“Oh my god.” 

* * *

 

Through some miracle blessed upon them by god, both Koushiro and Tachikawa finish their Econ slides for their presentation the following morning. Koushiro doesn’t even remember completing them, he must have gotten them done sometime between the entire pot of coffee he drank straight from the pot itself, and looping through the entire Death Grips discography at least three times. He doesn’t remember falling asleep either, but he remembers waking up ten minutes before the start of class. Furthermore, he remembers dreaming, fuzzy images of sandy brown hair and tan skin that make Koushiro feel Incredibly Stupid.

He’s connecting his laptop to the projector at the front of the class when someone shoves him across the lecture hall floor. 

“Koushiro-kun! Good morning!!!” Koushiro slides across the tile and knocks over some of the chairs in the front row. 

“Mimi-san...Please stop doing that.” He re-straightens the chairs and steps back to the podium to finish setting up their presentations. Tachikawa pouts. 

“Aren’t you going to say good morning back?” 

“...Good morning.” 

“Much better!” Tachikawa grins and flips her hair over one shoulder. 

The semester-long partnership between Koushiro Izumi and Mimi Tachikawa continues to perplex the entire Econ class. They met on day one by accident, when Mimi hdsat through half of the first day’s lecture before realizing “Wait, excuse me, is this Interior Design 217?” To which Koushiro responded with “Ah, no. This is Econ 320.” 

Mimi had decided it was too much of a hassle to find the actual class she had enrolled for, dropped Interior Design 217 and added Econ 320. Furthermore, she had switched majors from ADM to Macroeconomics within the first week of the course. Through the entirety of it, Mimi had insisted Koushiro remain her partner for the rest of the semester. Koushiro had raised a brow, wondered why on _earth_ this pretty, perky girl would want to be regular lab partners with _him_ in a class of 300 students. 

“Because,” Mimi had said, with a completely serious expression on her face. “I want to actually learn something this time. If I partner with another girl, I’ll get distracted, and if I partner with another boy, they’ll get distracted. But when you talk to me you only look at my face, so if it’s okay, can you be my lab partner?”

Koushiro had just stared at her, slowly trying piece together all the missing information in Mimi’s convoluted explanation. In the end, he’d said yes, because it made the most logical sense to keep a long-term partner than trying to work with other people in the class. 

And thus, Koushiro finds himself setting up their slideshow once more, and Mimi is sorting through index cards of notes. 

Koushiro leans against the table and stares at the back of the lecture hall, watching as other students trickle in slowly. Mimi sets her index cards down on the other end of the table and leans besides Koushiro, shoulders bumping when she pulls her phone out of her purse. 

“Koushiro-kun, do you have a Snapchat?”  
“I don’t.” 

“Aww, that’s too bad. But I’m not sure what you’d be snapping anyways- dates with your new computers, probably.” 

Mimi swipes around on her phone idly, and Koushiro absently stares at the screen from over her shoulder. A small ghost dances across a yellow background, rows of names, boxes, and play-icons filling her screen. She taps one after another, various selfies, pictures of food, and blurry photos of walls with unrelated text flashing in 6-10 second intervals. 

“This looks enthralling.” Koushiro says flatly, head propped in the palm of his hand. “I feel like I’m missing out on a lot.” 

“Look hon, we all have different ways of passing time. You do weird computer things, I Snapchat.” 

“Mhm.” Despite himself, Koushiro keeps watching. Mimi flips through her incredibly lengthy friendslist until she hits the last name in the list, yagamiT99. Thick brown hair fills half the screen, followed by two hazel eyes and a hand held up against his face to obscure his mouth. Text across the selfie reads “LATE AF TO WORK I THINK IM STILL DRUNK HAHAHA” 

Koushiro almost knocks his computer off the table. 

Mimi laughs to herself and double taps her screen, front facing camera catching Mimi and Koushiro in the frame. Before Koushiro gets a chance to duck, Mimi snaps an expertly angled selfie in less than two seconds, throwing her hand under her chin and tilting her head back. Koushiro gets caught in the background, face completely blank like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Delete that, please.” Koushiro says, running his fingers through his hair self

consciously. 

“Hmmm, nope.” Mimi types out something onto the image and hits “send”. Koushiro feels

dread creep up into his chest, which is stupid, because what are the chances that it’s actually him? And even if it was, why does it matter that he got caught in one of Mimi’s many selfies in a slightly unattractive fashion? 

Koushiro starts wringing his fingers, staring anxiously at the top of the table. From the corner of his eye, he sees Mimi open a snap, eyes widen slightly, and then flick her head to stare straight at him. It makes him flinch, Mimi’s stare so harsh and piercing it makes Koushiro want to take a few steps back. 

Mimi holds her phone up in front of her face and points it directly at Koushiro. 

“What are you-” The camera shutter noise goes off and Koushiro blinks. 

“Mimi-san!” He retorts, swiping for Mimi’s phone. She takes one step back and spins

around with practiced ease and hits send. Koushiro stares at her in abject horror. 

“Hm. I guess you are cute after all.” 

“What?!” Mimi makes some sort of gesture with her hands. 

“Don’t worry about it! Let’s just give our presentation, yeah?” 

Koushiro opens his mouth to retort, to say “No, absolutely not, I need to know why you’re

snapping photos of me to people, and furthermore, I need to know why I’m suddenly considering downloading Snapchat because I never considered myself a desperate person but this seems rather desperate.”

But the class’ professor walks in, room falling to a dull hush as he sets his bag down at one of the front tables. 

“Are you ready?” Mimi asks, head tilted with an innocent smile, like she’s done absolutely nothing wrong, hasn’t implanted all sorts of poor ideas into Koushiro’s head, all of which involve the social media fad of sending 10 second-long photos to friends via cellular phones.

“O-of course.”

Koushiro’s memorized his Snapchat name before the presentation even begins. 

 

 

Taichi’s stumbling out of his first class in the morning and nearly walks into three trees on his way out.

He will therefore blame his aggressive Snapchat behavior from earlier that morning on his current state of intoxication. When he’d received the snap from Mimi, it caught him so off guard he nearly threw his phone across campus and into the man-made lake. He was nearly concealed by Mimi’s face and caption reading “completely your fault uwu”, but Taichi caught it in that 6 second interval of time.

When the snap had disappeared, Taichi immediately double-tapped to reply, snapped a blurry, up-close picture of his face with the caption “FUCK IS THAT THE PRETTY KID FROM THE DINING HALL” 

By this time, Taichi had managed to make it into class and collapsed into the back row, phone glued to his hands as he waited for Mimi’s reply. “himehimemimichan” flashed across the top of his screen framed in red, and Taichi didn’t even give it a second before he opens it. 

“you mean koushiro-kun?” The caption was written across a startled looking photo of the exact boy he’d met in the dining hall two nights ago. Tousled red hair, pearly, unblemished skin, pointy nose, thick angled eyebrows, and a small mouth with round, pouty lips. Taichi mouths the name “Koushiro” to himself. Somehow for some reason, he feels like it suits him. 

Taichi screenshots the snap because he’s too drunk to realize that’s weird. He responds to the snap with a blurry picture of the top of his desk. 

_“its The Kid. whats his snapchat”_

The response is almost immediate, a blurry picture of the front of a lecture hall. 

_“weird taste, but cute i guess. he doesnt have one”_

The disappointment sears through Taichi’s blood. 

He spent the rest of the class period wondering what he’d do if he _did_ have a Snapchat, and thinks that, maybe for his own dignity and for Koushiro’s poor sanity, it’s best he doesn’t. 

So, when he looks down at his phone, sees the little notification that someone’s added him on Snapchat, he isn’t sure what to think. He opens the list and a single name pops up at the top. 

_KTENTO (izumi.koushiro) has added you!_

Taichi stares directly into the sun. 

 

Koushiro’s staring at his phone like it’s about to detonate. He legitimately cannot believe himself. He cannot believe he created a Snapchat, memorized the username of the guy who served him pizza literally once, had the gall to add him on the stupid new social media craze, and is now anxiously staring at his username in his friend’s list thinking of what he should send first. 

He lifts his phone over his head and nearly throws it into the man-made lake. The screen lights up with a red bar across the top. _yagamiT99_ flashes across with a square icon on the lefthand side. Koushiro doesn’t think he’s reacted to anything faster. He double-taps the name and a picture of greasy cheese pizza fills the screen. 

_“your fave. LOL im taichi”_

Koushiro feels himself smile and he hates how stupid this all is. He can’t help it. 

_“I’m Koushiro.”_

 

* * *

 

“49 DAYS???” Mimi is shouting in his ear and Koushiro takes several steps back. 

“I’m sorry?” Koushiro gives her a bewildered look, phone tucked against his chest. 

“YOU HAVE A 49 DAY SNAPCHAT STREAK WITH TAICHI AND YOU HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN EACH OTHER???” Koushiro feels his entire face burn under Mimi’s disturbingly piercing, unwavering glare. He takes another step back. 

“I. I haven’t had the time. I also don’t see why I would need to see him, we aren’t friends-” 

“YOU’RE FULL OF SHIT, KOUSHIRO IZUMI.”

“Please stop shouting…” Mimi’s face is puffed like a blowfish, fists clenched around her purse straps. She’s stamping her pointy heel into the pavement, and Koushiro is logically somewhat afraid. Mimi breathes in deep and exhales. 

“You’re right. You’re not friends. Just friends don’t have 49 day Snapchat streaks.” 

“How do you even know this?” Mimi points accusingly at his phone. 

“You have three friends on Snapchat. Me, and we have a 4 day streak, at most. Your friend Miyako from the computer club, and Taichi.” 

“ _How do you know this?”_ Koushiro repeats, because Mimi didn’t answer his question. 

“I see your best friends list.” Koushiro leaves it at that, because he still doesn’t understand. 

“What do you even DO to get a snapstreak that LONG. What do you SNAP all day???” Koushiro opens his mouth to answer but gets stuck. What _do_ they snap all day? He thinks about it, and he realizes 90% of their snaps are blurry pictures of their surrounding with text. Sometimes Taichi sends a selfie, and it always makes Koushiro’s cheeks feel too warm, makes his clothes feel too tight. There have been times where, when Koushiro’s feeling extra daring, he’ll turn to his front-facing camera and spend what feels like hours trying to take a passable selfie. He’s tried all different angles, all different kinds of light, but it literally doesn’t matter. He wonders how Mimi and Taichi make it look so easy, and he supposes that’s a blessing reserved only for conventionally attractive people. In the last 49 days, Koushiro hasn’t shown Taichi his face once, but maybe after like. 249 days. He’ll be able to muster the courage to send a picture of himself back. 

So, for the most part, their snaps are blurry renditions of the university campus, the sky, or their meals, with text overlayed that have no association with the image itself. 

It suddenly occurs to Koushiro they just use snapchat to talk. To talk about nothing. 49 days of consistent snapping of nothing in particular, and yet, every time he sees _yagamiT99_ pop up across his screen, he can’t help but feel himself- 

“You’re smiling.” Koushiro whips his head away from his phone to find Mimi staring at him again. 

“I am not.” 

“I’ve never seen you smile.”

“Surely that’s a lie.” Koushiro covers his mouth as a reaction. Mimi leans in, almost close enough that Koushiro’s afraid she’s going to headbutt him. She narrows her eyes, draws her lips together in a tight pout, and then throws her arms out to give Koushiro a shove across the room. 

“Please stop doing that!” Koushiro stumbles back and catches himself on a bench nearby. Other students give them passing glances of concern as they walk past. 

“I’m getting sick of watching this! It was fun at first since like you know developing relationships are cute but COME ON, 49 days??? What is this, are we waiting for someone’s rebirth??? Well okay! Your conscience is clear now, you’re reborn as Koushiro the Thirsty Snapchatting Hoe, time to wake the fuck up and do what you need to do!!!” Mimi starts making some agitated clapping noises with her hands and it’s stressing Koushiro out. He puts his hands over hers and shoves her arms down. 

“I don’t understand what any of what your saying means?” Mimi yanks her hands out from underneath Koushiro’s, throws her arms up in the air, and groans. 

“Why are you both so helpless?!” She starts walking away, mumbling to herself things that sound a lot like “boys are so stupid I hate boys this is why I’m gay” and “Sora would never do this to me”. Koushiro is more confused leaving the conversation than he was before he unwillingly entered. 

He lifts his phone up. 

_yagamiT99_  
yagamiT99  
yagamiT99

Koushiro unlocks his phone and definitely doesn’t smile. He taps through the three snaps, all blurry pictures of some part of campus with text overlayed on top. 

_its so hot out_

_i want to die_

_what are you up to?_

Koushiro continues walking back to his dorm and snaps a picture of the asphalt. He scrolls through the Snapchat filter and finds the temperature, which reads 34 degrees. 

_Going back to the dorms where there’s AC._

He sends another. 

_Yourself?_

He swipes his keycard at the dorm entrance that lets him into his floor. Koushiro lives in The Village, also known as quiet housing, which is also known as “ Kids Who Quietly Play Jenga and Chess Stoned Instead of Partying”. It shares the same odor as The Towers, Koushiro’s noted, but substitutes the sound of vomiting for re-rurns of _Nova_ at moderate volume. In essence, it is the perfect place for Koushiro to spend 75% of his time as a university student. 

When he enters his room, the first thing he notices is that his roommate isn’t there. Iori Hida, the small Freshman that Koushiro has the most honored privilege of calling “small”, leaves the dorm even less than Koushiro does. Standing at nearly 5 centimeters below Koushiro’s towering 165cm, Koushiro had mistaken Iori for his actual roommates younger sibling upon move-in day. When Iori introduced himself, Koushiro felt literal unease as he stared into what appeared to be a near mirror of himself. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Izumi-san. My name is Iori Hida, please excuse any mess or disturbance I may cause.” His rigid politeness unsettled Koushiro, until he made the connection that this is how he probably made everyone who interacted with him feel as well. 

Four months have gone by since the semester began, and Koushiro now realizes exactly how and why Iori and himself had been selected as roommates. Iori’s tendency towards silence made it incredibly easy to concentrate, and better yet, Iori slept like the dead. Koushiro’s 3AM tinkering and constant string of 72 hour days did nothing to Iori’s regular 7AM-10PM days. 

In the last four months, Koushiro has Iori’s schedule memorized. He wakes up at 7, has class from 8-2, has kendo from 2-4, is in the dorm from 4-6, has dinner from 6-8, is in the dorm again from 8-10, when he falls asleep and wakes the next day to repeat. Koushiro checks his watch. It’s 7:30PM on a Friday night. He feels unsettled. 

Koushiro walks over to his bed and sees a note tacked to his corkboard. 

_ Izumi-san,  _

_ I’ve gone home to visit my Grandfather for the weekend for an extensive Kendo training course. I will be gone until Sunday night. Please take care of my fish while I am away. He takes one pinch of food in the morning and at night.   _

_Thank you,_   
_Iori Hida_   
_PS- Please do not smoke any of my marijuana. I measure it nightly and will be greatly disappointed if any is missing upon my return._   
_PPS- This is for medical use only and helps me with general anxiety and insomnia. I’d be even further disappointed if I found out you were using my medical supply for recreational use._

Koushiro looks over to Iori’s side of the room. On his nightside table is a fishbowl with a single, red beta fish. Beside the bowl are three canisters, one of fish food, and two black film canisters. He walks over and picks them off the table

_5.73g. 22.7. IH_

_4.23g. 22.7. IH_

Koushiro checks his watch and it is in fact the 22nd. He places the canister back down next to the bowl and reminds himself to not use it to feed the fish by accident. 

The room is sweltering. Iori is bizarrely adamant about not opening windows in the dorm. Even in a thin v-neck and shorts, Koushiro feels his clothes sticking to himself and heat swirling around his head. He reaches for the window, since Iori isn’t here, it shouldn’t be a problem-

Iori has the window handles broken off. Koushiro finds himself further disturbed. 

Koushiro peels his shorts off and flattens himself on his bed. _yagamiT99_ flashes across his phone screen in the corner of his eye. Koushiro almost doesn’t bother moving to open it, heat too stifling to move, but something wills him to, and Koushiro almost finds that embarrassing. 

The snap moves too quickly for Koushiro. Taichi’s snaps are always set at 6 seconds, Koushiro knows this. But he feels his eyes widen, and the heat suddenly feels more suffocating, constraining, and Koushiro feels a little bit lightheaded. 

_just finished soccer practice. its fucking hot_

It’s a little bit blurry, but Koushiro barely notices. It’s clearly a locker room, grey background with white and blue tiled flooring.Taichi’s taken the selfie from above, fingers pushing damp brown hair away from his face, water dripping down his forehead, pooling at bare collar bones and trickling down his chest. From Koushiro’s peak observational skill, he comes to the conclusion that Taichi is a) shirtless and b) wet. 

_“If you press and hold a snap after you’ve watched it, you can replay it again, but you can only do this once every day.”_ Mimi’s voice rings in Koushiro’s head like some sort of social media deity, or maybe some social media demon egging him on to make all the Wrong choices. 

He presses and holds on Taichi’s name, and sure enough, the snap comes back and replays for 6 seconds that Koushiro isn’t ready to waste. 

In this next 6 seconds, Koushiro’s drawn to Taichi’s freckles, all across his nose and shoulders, skin tanned from countless hours in the blistering sun. He notices the definition of Taichi’s chest and bicep, toned and defined from one of the things Koushiro has very little information on- working out. And finally and possibly most importantly (in a purely objective sense, Koushiro thinks to himself) he notices the way Taichi’s lips tilt up, crooked and cocky in this half smile, half smirk that almost says _“I know”_.

And somehow, it irritates Koushiro, like he’s saying _“Yeah, I know, I know exactly how I make you feel, I know exactly what I’ve been doing snapchatting you for 49 days straight. I know exactly how it’s making you feel confused, frustrated, bothered, and maybe even a little-”_

_yagamiT99_ flashes across the top of Koushiro’s screen again and the snap closes up for the second and final time. He taps Taichi’s name and Koushiro thinks he’ll have to have Iori file his death certificate when he arrives home from his Grandfathers. 

_“so you liked that? ( ^ ;”_

The comment is attached to a full mirror selfie of Taichi in just a pair of low-slung chino khakis, plaid boxers peeking out from the top. But Koushiro only lets himself take 2 of the 6 seconds to enjoy the image before his mind goes into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE PANIC because _oh my god do people get alerted when-_

_“But if you replay a snap, the person who sent it to you will know that you did.”_ Mimi’s voice echos in Koushiro’s head like an omen, like a curse that will take him to his grave. He sits up, stares directly at his wall, places his head in his hands, and groans. 

“Oh my _GOD.”_

 

 

 

If there’s anything Taichi knows he’s good at, it’s taking selfies. It takes an incredible level of self-awareness for Taichi to fully accept how vain he is, but he embraces it wholeheartedly. He finds that his phone camera is almost permanently front-facing, and unlike most people, Taichi almost never has to take a selfie more than once before sending it off for other people to see. He doesn’t think much of them, clicks, snaps, sends.

Except when he’s sending them to The Boy. 

“Yagami, what’s so interesting about your phone that you gotta stand around half naked like that?”

“He has a new girlfriend. You can see it in his face.” 

“Oh fuck, no way. Is it that hot pink-haired girl you’ve been spending so much time with? The one with long legs.”

“Nah, she’s gay. I saw her with her girlfriend at lunch. Red head, beanie and flared jeans.” 

“No yeah, now that you mention it, I’m pretty sure Yagami is gay too. Like come on, his name backwards is...”  

Taichi’s not listening. His teammates are talking directly at him, but he’s definitely not listening. He hears his name a couple times, but his thoughts are completely fogged because _shit Koushiro replayed my selfie what the fuck Koushiro replayed my selfie fuck what the fuck fuck oh my god._

If there’s anything Taichi knows he is, it’s that he’s probably at least somewhat of an idiot. He hadn’t thought much about sending his last snap, didn’t really think about how he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Or at least, tried not to think about it. Taichi’s been trying for the last 49 days to give Koushiro some kind of Hint, and by this point, Taichi’s come to the conclusion that Koushiro’s completely clueless. He tried to tell himself to not sneak ulterior motives into his photos, because Koushiro simply would not notice. 

_KTENTO replayed your snap!_

Taichi is _giddy._ He feels his cheeks starting to get sore, because he absolutely knows he’s grinning. 

“Yags, stop grinning like that it’s really fucking weird? Put your clothes on and go home.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” Taichi responds absently, turning his phone over in his hands. He pulls a tank top out from his gym bag and slips it over his head. He slings the bag over his shoulder and practically floats out of the locker room. 

The walk from the locker room back to A-dorm takes roughly 10 minutes. In that time, Taichi has his eyes completely glued to his phone screen. As each minute ticks by with no notification that Koushiro’s snapped him back, dread creeps its way into his thoughts, breaking his shit-eating grin in half. 

Maybe he want too far. 

He’s unlocking the door to his dorm thinking _fuck did I ruin this._

“Daisuke, I’m coming in. Cover anything I shouldn’t see.” Taichi enters the room with his eyes closed. He’s learned from too many uncomfortable encounters with Daisuke and his company, Ichijouji. Any time he enters the dorm, he keeps his eyes closed for three seconds, which is usually enough time for both of them to scramble into presentable positions. 

When Taichi opens his eyes, he’s alone. He checks his phone. 8:10 on a Friday night. Taichi’s concerned. It’s prime hour for claiming-the-dorm-room-for-intercourse-while-senpais-gone, so the fact that Daisuke isn’t there makes Taichi think he’s dead. Or worse, in a fight with Ichijouji. 

His phone buzzes. 

_daisuk-gay: senpai!!! just fyi, u have the room to yrself this wknd. im with ken at his rents place- did u kno they own property on a lake?? its siccccccc. see u on mon!_

_daisuk-gay: oh plz dont smoke my stash i have no money left i need that_

Taichi throws his phone on the bed. He turns on the four fans they have in the dorm and throws the window wide open. He groans. It’s still too fucking hot. He throws his tank top onto the ground, mixing with some other articles of clothing belonging to him or Daisuke, and collapses face flat into his bed. 

Taichi runs through a mental list of things he could do with an empty dorm.

-Hotbox the entire room 

-Invite Koushiro over for [REDACTED]  
-Clean the entire dorm to send Daisuke into a panic upon his return

-Invite Koushiro over for [REDACTED]

Taichi scowls and smacks his cheeks. Enough is enough, back to reality, Mr. Yagami. 

He turns onto his side to check his phone and his heart almost stops. 

_Snap from KTENTO_

It takes Taichi 4 times to type his passcode in correctly. He is almost afraid he’ll lock himself out of his phone at this crucial moment. 

Koushiro always sets his snaps to 4 seconds. The first thing he notices is this one is set to 10. The second thing he notices is his eyes. And his face. And his sharp, pointy nose and parted pink lips

Taichi hasn’t seen Koushiro’s face in 49 days. He feels his mouth go dry. 

_I don’t know what you’re talking about._ overlays a photo of Koushiro laying on his bed, mussed red hair spread on his white pillowcase. Half his face is obscured, hidden by the caption, but Taichi doesn’t mind.The neckline of his too-big shirt slips off the side of his shoulder, exposing sharp collar bones and pale, soft, skin. The maroon fabric bunches above his torso, shirt hiked up to reveal the almost feminine curve of his waist, bleeding into hip bones that Taichi wants to press his thumbs into, feel them rub against the palms of his hands. His free arm is crossed over the flat of his stomach, fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. He looks like he’s conflicted, like he’s trying to cover himself. The embarrassment is cute, Koushiro’s cute, Taichi hates himself.He follows the bowed line of Koushiro’s skinny legs, bent in at the knees and toes pointing towards each other. His kneecaps are pink, and Taichi can see little purpling bruises scattered around, like he hits his knees on the corners of desks, tables, chairs. Taichi thinks that’s cute for some reason, thinks every piece of Koushiro is _cute unbearable hot fuck fuck fuck fuck_

The snap disappears and it takes Taichi a second to realize he’s panting. He presses a hand to his face, over his eyes and exhales.

_Oh, fuck._

 

Koushiro’s phone hits the wall so hard, the case pops off. The phone bounces back onto the mattress and lands next to his knee. He decides he’s going to throw this phone into the campus lake, get a new number, break both cameras on the terrible piece of technology and never, ever, ever listen to Mimi again about opening accounts on social media. 

Koushiro notices his shirt is still pulled up over his torso. His skin heats even more, darkens his usually pale skin to a rosey shade of pink, and he yanks the fabric of his shirt as far down as it can go, until it covers the cuffs of his briefs and brushes against his thighs. 

He doesn’t know why he thought THAT would be a good idea. How this managed to bypass every layer of judgement that his brain has been hardwired to filter decisions through is completely beyond Koushiro. One second, he’s sitting crosslegged on top of his mattress, next he’s laying half naked against the sheets and sending pictures to some guy who literally just served him pizza _once._

Okay, he’s a really attractive guy with pretty brown eyes and a chest sculpted from warm adobe clay but- 

Koushiro stares down at his phone as the screen lights up again. 

_yagamiT99_

The speed Koushiro moves at makes him feel ashamed. He takes a deep, well-needed breath before tapping on Taichi’s name. 

_“well, i def like this”_ Taichi made it back to his dorm, apparently, and Koushiro assumes he’s there alone. Taichi’s laying on his bed, dark blue sheets wrinkled up around a very clear view of his bare chest. As if Koushiro hadn’t seen enough in the last two, this one is in focus and centered, the resolution of Taichi’s iPhone6+ camera highlighting the gleam of sweat catching in the ripples of his abdominal muscles and beading around his hairline. 

Koushiro never considered himself a desperate person. He’d never been particularly interested or against partaking in. Well. Whatever he’s partaking in right now. He’d been here and there, stoned-makeouts with too much salivia in the common room with _Nova_ reruns as background noise. If he got lucky, it’d be some rough groping to _Ancient Aliens_ instead or something, but he’d never thought of any of it twice.

But now, when Taichi’s snap ticks down to 0 and disappears, Koushiro’s definitely thinking twice, thinking about wanting to see more, wanting to do more, wanting to show more.

The idea manages to bypass through his multiple layers of judgement not once, but twice, and Koushiro’s off his bed and sitting in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the back of his door. 

His hands are shaking as he holds the camera up to face the mirror. He catches sight of himself in his phone screen and has to look away. Koushiro feels himself blush, it’s embarrassing, it’s _so_ embarrassing, Koushiro cannot believe he’s doing this. His hands hesitate over the camera button on his phone, and he almost backs out, but-

_“well, i def like this”_

Koushiro feels his stomach flip, arousal peak crawl up his spine and stir his entire body. _Taichi-san likes this, Taichi-san likes seeing me, Taichi-san likes me_ floats stupidly through Koushiro’s head, and it clouds his thoughts, and it’s enough to mask the embarrassment. 

Koushiro folds his knees underneath him. He braces his free arm in-between his legs, supporting himself while he arches his back as much as he can. He can see the slight outline of his cock pressing up against the fabric of his shirt, folded and bunched around the front of his briefs. Before he can lose his nerves, he holds the camera in front of his face and snaps. 

_“Like what?”_ Koushiro sends it and turns his phone face down in front of him. His heart is pounding in his ears, his entire body is shaking. He’s nervous, embarrassed, and somewhat humiliated, which all sound like awful, terrible things, but it’s making Koushiro’s blood burn, making him pant from more than just the heat. His remaining clothing feels like too much, it’s too hot, it’s too hot, Taichi is making everything _too hot._

Taichi replies, and Koushiro almost whimpers. 

_“like the way you look. you look good.”_ When Koushiro opens the snap, he _does_ whimper, because the sight of Taichi’s boxers strained from an impressive hard-on is embarrassingly enough to make Koushiro roll his hips into floor of his dorm. 

When the snap times out, Koushiro notices his mouth’s gone dry, and he’s been sucking on his tongue and biting on his lips. He has a rampant thought of _I want something in my mouth_ and it almost sends Koushiro into shock. He holds the camera up to his face, close enough to cut off anything above his nose. Koushiro exhales, and holds the camera button down. The video records, and Koushiro’s licking his lips, pressing them together into a pucker and parting them wide. 

“ _You look good, too.”_ He sends the video and Koushiro has a rampant thought that maybe, Mimi was right. 49 days and a rebirth into a completely, non-rational, desperate version of his past self. 

Koushiro’s far too in this to have second thoughts anymore. All he can think about is what Taichi’s doing on the other side of his phone, what Taichi’s feeling when he opens up pictures of _him,_ thinking about what he’d do if Taichi were _here_ instead of there and- 

Koushiro’s getting too far ahead of himself. He pants dryly, the temperature of his dorm must be at least in the triple digits. He lays down on the cool wood flooring between the two beds and it makes his sweat-soaked shirt stick to his skin.

His phone screen lights up again and for whatever reason, all Koushiro feels is calm. The nerves are gone, he feels almost serene, removed from the situation and acting entirely on instinct. It’s new ground for Koushiro. He can’t say he dislikes it. 

_shit what did i get myself into_

The caption is over a blurry picture of the wall. Koushiro feels panic surge back into his body until a stream of three snaps load onto his screen 

_who would have thought the corn flakes kid would have perfect cock sucking lips_

_oh god im sorry was that rude?_

_im so sorry i dont think much you just look really nice_

All the snaps finish and Koushiro blinks. He feels like something’s shifted, like suddenly Taichi’s the nervous one, riled up and on edge because of what _Koushiro’s_ done. He tilts his head to one side, purse of his lips curling into a smile someone could maybe call mischievous. Koushiro doesn’t quite understand yet, but he thinks he likes the idea of being able to get Taichi to lose that smug, cool look on his face. 

But then he remembers the _“perfect cock sucking lips”_ part of the series of snaps and Koushiro’s back to wide-eyed, embarrassed blushing. He presses a thumb to his own lips and wonders what that even _means,_ and then he’s thinking about what it would feel like to have a mouth full of-

_It’s alright. If you’d like that I wouldn’t mind trying._

The text is overlayed an unfocused picture of Koushiro’s bare thighs and pointed toes. He sends it off, and Koushiro’s mouth feels empty. 

The response is almost immediate. Koushiro thinks he might be getting okay at this. 

_fuck. youre too cute i couldnt do that to you._

Koushiro feels slightly offended. Who the fuck does Taichi think he is, telling him he looks too cute to suck dick? Koushiro doesn’t think he would have been offended by this yesterday, but that was yesterday and today is today. 

_I’m sure you could._

Again, an almost immediate response. 

_you dont know what youre getting yourself into_

Koushiro is a little bit concerned. He can’t hear him, it’s a conversation fucking occurring over Snapchat, but somehow Koushiro can sense the hesitation. _Why the fuck is he hesitating,_ Koushiro starts thinking to himself, _Taichi-san started this, he’s the one who wanted_ - 

Taichi’s giving him an out. He’s letting Koushiro change his mind, if he wants to. He must have seen how nervous he’d been, taking photos with shaky hands and shy body posture, Taichi’s letting him say no. 

_Unbelievable_ , Koushiro thinks. He’s shaking his head, smiling down at his phone. If he could describe what he was feeling, Koushiro would probably say he felt giddy. 

_Then show me what I’m getting myself into._

 

 

Taichi’s groaning into his pillow. His head hurts from the heat, his conscience hurts from the immorality of it all, but most of all his dick hurts from _how unbelievably pretty Koushiro is._

Taichi can absolutely tell Koushiro’s never done this in his life. The pictures are all blurry and poorly angled, it’s all amateur. Taichi’s gotten some wild nude snaps in his college career, but none even come close to scraping how the quality of Koushiro’s. 

_And they aren’t even nudes yet these are just foreplay I’m fucking dead._

It’s something about the nervousness. He can see it in Koushiro’s face, or lack thereof. He keeps hiding, like he’s embarrassed, but he can see how hard Koushiro’s trying, like he’s saying _please like me, please like me, please like me._ He’s a complete natural, the fall of his limbs and the curves of his body just sit in a way that look alluring, from the bow of his legs to the wet pop of his lips. 

Taichi feels his boxers tighten at the thought of the lips again, and then he feels a flash of shame because he _cannot believe he said that to the poor boy._

He feels terrible. Koushiro barely knows him, he seems too innocent and fragile for this kind of shit. That last thing, absolutely last thing, Taichi wants to do is take advantage of this poor, pretty boy. He wants to earn it, earn the way his face says _please like me,_ because honestly, all Taichi wants to say in response is _please like me, too._

So when he gets the snap that says _“Show me what I’m getting myself into”_ Taichi has to hold back 12 different urges to ask for his campus address and batter down his dorm door. He’s going to be good. He’s going to take it slow, because he doesn’t want to fuck this up. He wants Koushiro to invite _him,_ let him know it’s okay. 

_youre sure?_

Tachi needs be absolutely sure. 

The response is immediate. Taichi squirms. 

_Yes. Please show me._

The caption overlays another overhead shot of Koushiro laying down. He’s on the floor now, back against the cold wood tile that Taichi recognizes from the Quiet Dorms. In A-dorm, they have carpet that holds in the stench of vomit and stale beer. 

The photo cuts off right at the tops of his thighs, but Taichi’s seen a lot of Koushiro’s legs tonight, so he doesn’t mind too terribly. Not when he has one thumb hooked in the waistband of his briefs, dragging them down past the cut of his hipbone and just barely uncovering a patch of dark red hair. 

But it’s not any of this shit that gets Taichi groaning and palming at the front of his own boxers, no. It’s the fact that Koushiro is looking right at the camera this time, big dark eyes looking up through sooty lashes, and those pink cock-sucker lips that make Taichi want to pray. 

Taichi got what he wanted. He has the yes, the consent, the okay to take this to where it needs to be taken. He’s so excited, and it’s not even on the prospect of getting his dick wet, but to see Koushiro enjoy himself, maybe be the first person to see Koushiro enjoy himself, and that in itself is enough to get Taichi’s dick twitching against the fabric of his underwear. 

He peels the boxers off, front stained with a dark wet spot. Taichi groans, cock springing free to make contact with humid, dorm room air. He lets himself wrap a fist around the base, thinking about delicate, nervous hands instead of his own, and atiny wet mouth dangerously close to kissing the tip. 

He points his phone down and snaps. It takes him a couple of tries to keep his hands from shaking and blurring up the photo.

_this is what youre getting into. is that ok?_

He takes about 10 seconds to make sure it is only going to Koushiro and nowhere else. When it sends off, he sits back and strokes lightly, trying incredibly hard to not let guilt interrupt fantasies of mussed read hair between his fingers. 

When Taichi sees Koushiro’s response turn purple instead of red, Taichi almost has a heart attack. Taichi is 100%sure Koushiro’s courage completely outclasses his own. His hand almost slips as he tries to play the video. 

_I’ll do my best._

It overlays another close up video of Koushiro’s mouth, but instead of just teasing lip purses and wet popping, fingers are dragging in and out of those soft, pink lips, tiny narrow tongue dancing over the tips, saliva trickling down the knuckles and over pale skin. 

Taichi wishes he knew how to save videos off of Snapchat, because this is honestly getting him harder than any porn or hentai Taichi’s seen, and he (un)admittedly has seen a good amount. 

He fists his cock roughly to the image of Koushiro’s fingers pulling in and out from between his lips, cheeks hollowing out and tongue kitten-licking at the corners of his mouth. Taichi’s furious when the video ends. 

He turns the camera back around immediately and hesitates over the record button.

Taichi’s actually never done _this._ Pictures are whatever, Taichi has about 50 snapchat friends and receives on average a total of 4 nudes a week from people he usually doesn’t remember. If he’s in the mood, he’ll sometimes respond with a sloppy, poorly lit shirtless photo just to be polite. It doesn’t get much farther than that, he’s sent a total of three dick pics in his life, one as a result of poorly thought-out drunken actions (and accidentally snapped it to Mimi instead of its intended recipient), another to that one short-lived Freshman year fling with the graduating senior he met at a party, and the third just now, to the corn flakes kid with dark, piercing eyes that tell Taichi Koushiro learns far too quickly. 

Taichi is definitely not just snapping Koushiro back just to be polite. He deserves Taichi’s absolute best. Steadying his hands by anchoring his elbow against his thigh, Taichi holds down the record button and lets his eyes slip close and his head roll back. He loosens his grip, trying to imagine how Koushiro would hold him- his hands are probably small, thin pretty fingers with protruding knuckles and bones. He wonders what Koushiro would say, what his voice would sound like in his ear if he were sitting up in Taichi’s lap, he tries to remember, 49 days back to the last time he heard his voice.

_“It’s alright, I don’t mind waiting.”_

Arousal spikes up Taichi’s spine, settling in the bottom of his stomach and numbing up the tips of his toes. He tucks his chin in and groans, remembers that first thing he’d felt when Koushiro was standing across from him at the counter, telling Taichi he didn’t mind waiting for him, would be good and patient. It’s so fucking stupid because _it was about a slice of fucking pizza_ but it gets Taichi so damn close, he has to snap his eyes open and stop the recording and dig nails into the inside of his palm. 

He sits back for a bit to catch his breath and holds his phone above his face. The clip of him fisting his own dick loops on repeat a couple of times and Taichi watches it with nothing more than critical judgement. He doesn’t think it’s good enough, but Taichi also doesn’t think he can last another round of fantasizing about Koushiro’s voice in his ear. 

_“youre already doing so well. are you telling me you can do better?”_

He sends it off, and suddenly feels like a high schooler waiting for a text back from their first date. 

Except he’s got one hand covered in precum and a damn impressive hard-on. The details are irrelevant. 

The snap comes back in, and Taichi has to mentally prepare himself. 

_“Maybe I can. Why don’t you tell me?”_

Koushiro’s laying on the floor still, wood visible beneath his back. He’s got the edge of his shirt tucked into his mouth, revealing beautifully flushed skin and a pert pink nipple. Koushiro’s camera resolution is incredible, incredible enough to see moisture glistening off the raised nub on his chest. Taichi exhales, the mental image of Koushiro with his head back, rubbing at his chest with wet fingers, maybe imagining Taichi’s tongue trailing down his skin, sucking marks into too-perfect skin. 

Taichi’s rubbing the head of his cock as he sends a shot of himself from above. 

_“youre wearing too much. can you take some of it off?”_ Taichi’s getting desperate. He wants to see more, he’s greedy, wants more Koushiro.

_“Is this good?”_

Koushiro’s back at the mirror, and _fuck,_ “good” is not the word Taichi would use to describe the snap. 

He’s so _shy_ and it gets Taichi incredibly bad. Koushiro’s sitting in front of the mirror, knees drawn up to his bare chest. He has one hand pulled up close to his face, finger trailing along one of his lips in this cute, nervous sort of gesture. The underwear is gone, and the sight of that tiny, glistening cock has Taichi feeling this strange combination of endeared, blessed, and _I want to play with it all night until he cries._

It all ends with Koushiro’s toes. Or more like, his socks. Taichi just assumes he’d forgotten he’d still been wearing them, but Koushiro’s mid calf black socks are the only article of clothing left on his entire body. In that moment, Taichi thinks he develops a socks fetish. If this lasts long enough, Taichi thinks about investing in knee highs and stockings. 

_“you are SO good. but can you do something else for me? can i see you from behind?”_

Taichi’s reaching. Taichi feels like a fucking asshole. He’s pushing his luck, he knows, but Koushiro is _so_ pretty, he wants to see all of him. 

The snap response is just a blurry picture of the floor

_“Oh. Um. Okay. Just give me a second. It’ll be hard to take.”_

Taichi goes into Panic. 

_“hey its ok if you dont want to im a dick im sorry.”_

There’s a couple of empty minutes where Taichi is sure he’s just fucked up any chance of getting rid of this near painful stiffy. So much for the stockings. 

He’s almost ready to go take a cold shower to repent and think about what he’s just done wrong when _KTENTO has sent you snap!_ pops onto his screen. Taichi thinks he might be in love. 

“Oh, fuck. _Fuck.”_ Taichi says it out loud to no one. He doesn’t think straight. With one finger over his lock button and the other over his home button, he takes a screenshot. It’s like a work of art, he can’t bare for it to be lost forever. 

Taichi wonders how many tries it took to get a photo this nice. Leaned over in a perfect arc, Koushiro has his phone propped over one of his shoulders. His neck is craning to see the screen while he tries to take a picture of himself facing away from the mirror. He’s on his knees and bent over onto the floor, ass up in the air and spine curled down like a cat. Taichi’s got a clear view of everything, tightened puckered hole that Taichi just wants to- 

“Jesus christ. Fuck.” Taichi doesn’t know when started fisting his dick again, thrusting in and out of his palm, imagining Koushiro rocking back against him, what he’d sound like, how well he’d take it, _fuck_. 

He wonders what Koushiro would look like taking something inside. 

The snap closes and Taichi turns the camera back down at his lap. 

_“fuck kou. i promise that screencap wont go anywhere. i want to keep it all for myself. can you finger yourself for me? pretend its me? youre so good fuck”_

He sends it off and knocks his head against his headboard, groaning as he thumbs into the head of his cock. He thinks about pressing his own fingers inside Koushiro, wondering how warm and tight he’d be around him, how he’d watch his spine curling, and his head leaning back, mouth split open with Taichi’s name written on his tongue.

The snap he gets back is purple. Taichi stares into his ceiling light. 

_“I’m already ahead of you.”_

Koushiro is facing the mirror again, knees drawn back up to his chest. He’s got a hand

between his leg, two fingers knuckle deep inside himself. Taichi thanks god he doesn’t have his sound on silent, because he can hear Koushiro mewling, soft and high just like Taichi imagined he’d be. If he listens close enough, he can hear the wet sound of his slicked up fingers pushing in and out, and Taichi thinks he’s close, Taichi thinks this is what’ll get him, but as the snap nearly cuts to the end, he hears one last thing before it disappears. 

_“Taichi-san….”_

And that’s it. Taichi drops his phone to the floor and curls in on himself, Koushiro’s perfect, pretty voice playing in his head like _Taichi-san, Taichi-san, Taichi-san_ as he splatters cum up over the edge of his fist, dripping down the sides of his fingers and staining the bed sheets. 

On the backs of Taichi’s eyelids, all he can see is dark red hair and pearly white thighs. 

 

_8011262121_

Koushiro’s hands are shaking as he tries to send that one last snap. His head is spinning, sweat sticking between his back and the floorboards beneath him. He rocks his hips down into his fingers again, desperate moan for literally no one cutting out of his throat. In the back of his mind, there’s part of his past self that’s wonder how the _fuck_ this happened, but he’s shoving it away, because his primary focus of the moment is getting himself off. 

He can worry and berate himself for his poor, illogical choices later. 

_youre so good, youre so good, youre doing so good._ Koushiro tries to imagine it in his ear, the feel of Taichi’s curling lips brushing up against the side of his neck. He loves the way Taichi makes him feel, makes him feel like he’s doing something right, like he’s important and wanted. Again, there’s a part of Koushiro’s past self telling him _you literally met this guy at the cafeteria and he gave you a slice of pizza then you sent him a graphic photograph of your backside Koushiro Izumi I don’t even know you anymore._

Koushiro’s phone rings next to his head, and he mouths a silent prayer that it’s the person he’s expecting. He turns his phone over and puts it on speaker. 

“H-hello…?” He tries to put himself together in case it isn’t him. 

“....Koushiro?” The voice on the other side is rough, out of breath, and making Koushiro’s chest burn. 

“Taichi-san…?” There’s a groan on the other side of the line. 

“Shit, stop saying my name like that, it’s fucking me up you don’t even know.” There’s a light chuckle in Koushiro’s ear, and it makes his face heat up. “You’re amazing, you know that?” 

“That’s not-” Koushiro squirms, pressing his fingers deeper into himself again. “Ah…” 

“Oh, you’re still not done yet? Man, sorry for leaving you hanging for a bit there. I was just. Well.” Koushiro’s drowning in the sound of Taichi’s voice, low and warm right against his ear. 

“I-it’s alright. Just. Please keep talking.” Koushiro can almost see the smug smile spread across Taichi’s face. 

“So you like being talked to? I could kind of figure. You seemed to like it when I said you were good earlier.” Koushiro throws his head back and whines, arousal spiking up his spine and straight into the roots of his hair. He tugs on his cock, rubbing his thumb into the slit spilling precum down the sides. 

“God, you are just so. Hey, can I ask you something, Koushiro?” 

“Mmm…?” Koushiro isn’t sure he can be coherent enough to answer. 

“Are you- I mean. It’s okay if you aren’t. But after. You know. You finish up. Do you want to meet me for some dinner? I haven’t seen you since- and well.” Koushiro manages a laugh in spite of his current position. 

“Are you asking me out on a date?” 

“While you have two fingers up your ass? Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“I suppose I can’t really say no.”

“Of course you can say no. I’m not forcing you. I can also hang up right now, if that’s what you want.” Koushiro rolls his hips again, fingers brushing exactly where he needs them. 

“N-no…” He can hear Taichi smirking again. 

“Awesome. So let’s get you done so I can see you soon, okay?”Koushiro’s mewling again, hips moving against his hands. 

“Please. _Please,_ Taichi-san.” 

“Fuck, how do you say my name like that?” 

“Taichi-san?” Taichi hisses. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait to hear you saying that underneath me.” Koushiro whips his head around. 

“Who says I’ll be underneath you?” He breathes. What audacity, he thinks. Taichi is smug, it’s so frustrating and annoying it makes Koushiros dick twitch. 

“Oh, so you want to be on top? You want to ride me, is that what you want?” Koushiro’s head hits the ground again, moan ripped right out from the base of his throat. 

“Hmm, sounds like it. I wouldn’t mind that. I bet you’d look good like that. I mean, you’d look cute doing anything.” Koushiro bites his lip around a high-pitched cry, so _embarrassing._

“Hey, don’t do that. That’s not fair.” 

“...What’s not fair?” Koushiro can almost hear Taichi pouting. 

“Trying to keep yourself quiet. It’s not fair. I want to hear you.” Koushiro turns his head away, warmth creeping up on his cheeks. 

“But it’s embarrassing…” Taichi laughs again, and Koushiro’s torn between feeling irritated and getting more aroused, because there’s something about the way that Taichi laughs, the way Taichi smiles, the way he smirks. He thinks back to the cafeteria, the way Taichi had smiled at him on his way out, crooked with the arch of his brow. So it _is_ all Taichi’s fault. The nerve. 

“You’re so _shy._ Even after everything you did for me tonight you’re still shy…But, you’re a good boy aren’t you? You’re gonna let me hear you come, right?” 

Koushiro forgets to be embarrassed. An uninhibited cry rips itself from between his lips, so high and desperate Koushiro shocks himself. His free hand flies to his mouth as he pumps his fingers in at a frantic pace. 

“That’s better. See, doesn’t it feel better if you let me know how good you feel? You’re close, I can tell. I can hear it, you know. How quickly you’re moving your fingers in and out. I bet you’re pretending it’s me, right?” Koushiro moans something incoherent in response, something that he thinks might have been a rendition of Taichi’s name. 

“I-i...I’m-” 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Fuck, if you sound like this over the phone, I can’t wait to see what you _look_ like when you come. I bet you look _so_ pretty, you’re such a _pretty_ boy…” _Pretty pretty pretty pretty_ Koushiro wants Taichi to shut the fuck up, because it’s too much, Taich doesn’t understand, it’s winding him up too tight, Koushiro feels like he’s about to snap, about to-

_“Taichi-san--!”_

Koushiro never checked to see if his floormates were in for the evening. Dorm walls are relatively thin, and somewhere in the back of his head, part of him is horrified. But he can’t help it. Koushiro’s eyes snap open and he’s coming to the sound of Taichi’s voice, cooing _good boy, you’re so good Koushiro, perfect, you’re perfect_ in the phone receiver. Cum splashes up his chest in spurts and drips down his abdomen, messy and sticky and all sorts of things Koushiro generally dislikes. But that was the Koushiro from 49 days ago, and he’s been reborn, as maybe someone who could learn to get used to the feeling of sweat and stick. 

It takes Koushiro a while to say anything else. He lays on the floor for a bit, unmoving. He’s hyperaware of every breath he takes, every movement of his chest and every ounce of blood moving through his veins. He almost lets his eyes slip closed, until he remembers Taichi is still on the other line. 

“...Hi.” Taichi chuckles. 

“Hey there. How are you?” Koushiro rolls onto his side, laziness overcoming him.

“Okay.” He responds, pillowing his head in the crook of his arm.

“Just okay?” This time, it’s Koushiro’s turn to smirk. 

“Well, it could be better. For one, you could be here instead of me having to lay here alone. And two, you could be here accompanied by an entire cheese pizza.” The other side of the line is silent. Koushiro hopes he wasn’t pushing his luck with the pizza. 

And Taichi bursts out laughing. Koushiro’s learned a lot about Taichi in the last few hours, from the fact that he has freckles on the curve of his shoulders to the aproximate length of his dick. But the most important thing he learns is the contagiousness of Taichi’s laugh. Koushiro presses the back of his hand to his mouth and giggles, light and airy and full of contentment. 

“Yeah, you know you’re right. Why settle for just okay? Text me your dorm number. I’ll be there in 15. You’re own personal pizza delivery boy.” Koushiro smiles. 

“Exactly according to plan.”  
“One more thing though.”

“Hm?” 

“Should I bring cornflakes too?” 

 

* * *

 

_Dear Izumi-senpai;_

_I’ve filed a room mate change request form this week upon my return to the dorm. Not only is my fish dead due to being left unfed for the entire weekend, but my medical marijuana prescription for the remainder of the month has been completely depleted. I’m highly disappointed, I saw you as a very trustworthy person. Furthermore, the dorm reeks of pizza, sweat, weed, and sex. I’m not sure what happened while I was gone, but I definitely do not want to live with it._

_Regards,_

_Iori Hida_

* * *

 

 

_daisuk-gay: SENPAI_

_daisuk-gay: SENPAI_

_daisuk-gay: SENPAI IM MAD AF WTF I TOLD U DONT TAKE MY WEED_

_daisuk-gay: SENPAI THIS ISNT COOL OK_

_daisuk-gay: also we need to talk about making a sched re: who gets to use the room for sex ken isnt v happy rn_

_daisuk-gay: come on pls txt me back_

_daisuk-gay: whO IS SHE_

_daisuk-gay: wait ur gay_

_daisuk-gay: WHO IS HE_

 

* * *

 

“Mimi, you don’t need to open those right now.” Arms wrap around Mimi’s midsection, and she feels a nose press into the knobs of her spine.

“No, I need to open it right now. I need to know if Taichi did The Thing.” Mimi flips herself onto her opposite side and holds her phone in view for Sora to also see. 

“Why are you so fixated on this?” Mimi narrows her eyes. 

“Because it’s hilarious and I love meddling. Also because Taichi’s whining about Koushiro-kun is getting on my nerves. _Pretty_ this _pretty_ thatI think he has a fetish or something.”  
“...He never called me pretty when we dated.” Mimi rolls her eyes and sighs. 

“Because _he’s_ gay and _you’re_ gay we’ve gone over this honey.” Mimi tilts her head up and pecks Sora’s chin. “But you are pretty, babe. Though I will say, I think Taichi has a thing for redheads.” 

Finally, Mimi’s done tapping through all her other irrelevant snaps from other people. She reaches _yagamiT99_ and braces herself. 

First, it’s just photos of trees with captions. 

_HE REPLAYED MY SELFIE_

_OMF I WANT HIS DICK_

_WHAT DO I DO_

_MIMI HELP_

_MIMI I NEED ADVICE_

_MIMI_

_MIMI WHY DO YOU ABANDON ME IN MY TIME OF NEED_

Mimi thinks that might be it, just millions of snaps of Taichi complaining, until she hits the last photo.

“WHAT THE FUCK TAICHI.” Sora screams in Mimi’s ear, spit splattering across the side of her face and onto the screen. 

_“This is the second fucking time.”_ Mimi cackles madly, holds her lock and home button simultaneously and screenshots the Incriminating Evidence. 

“What do you MEAN the second time?! That’s his dick?! That’s like undeniably his dick?! Why is Taichi sending you dick pics???????????” Sora is still yelling. Mimi is still laughing. 

“Honey calm down. Watch.” 

Mimi pulls up Taichi’s phone number and attaches the Incriminating Evidence to a text. 

_so did someone have fun last night?_

It takes a few minutes, but Mimi’s phone buzzes beneath her pillow with a response. 

_taichi imagay: THIS IS THE SECOND FUCKING TIME_

_taichi imagay: DELETE THIS_

_taichi imagay: THIS WASNT FOR YOU_

_taichi imagay: (btw yes i did have a great night thx for asking)_

“See?” Mimi gestures to her phone for Sora. “Nothing to worry about. And now I can rest in piece, Taichi finally got his dick wet.” Mimi tosses her phone onto the bedside table and turns to press her face into Sora’s chest. 

Mimi’s asleep in the matter of minutes, but Sora’s left wondering until the sun comes up the following morning.  

_What about the first time???_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry  
> i hope this fic becomes a meme

**Author's Note:**

> どうして @ me. light me inbox on fire at koushiheaux.tumblr.com or @kasuutan on twit or join the #TAISHIROAGENDA2K15


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